


It All Starts With ART (happy little mistakes)

by AristaStarfyr



Category: Lexx, Original Work, The Murderbot Diaries - Martha Wells
Genre: Alternate Universe, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Gen, The Clone Games return!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2019-10-19 15:43:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17604188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AristaStarfyr/pseuds/AristaStarfyr
Summary: And there you have it.  One rogue secunit, mildly famous for hacking its governor module and playing a key part in trying to bring GrayCris down, has just given its human friends one crazy, out of place human who claims to have come from a separate dimension and holds alien DNA within her own DNA that GrayCris wants for some asinine reason.  I really can't make this stuff up.  It would be a great serial if I weren't living it right now.





	1. New Delivery

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I now dive into a new fandom. I dove in so hard I've been keeping the novellas on repeat on audible. I have yet to get the hard copies so spellings are going to be off. Futuristic robotics is not my jam so I'm sure I have made a ton of mistakes but sarcastic SecUnit and ASSHOLE research transport was too good to pass up! Any feedback would be glorious and I hope you enjoy the story as much as I had fun creating it!
> 
> Updates may be a bit sporadic considering I have work, a million other fics and an original piece to work on. But I will say the Muse wants me to work on this for a bit. Thank you SO MUCH for reading and taking time out to voice your thoughts on it!

She woke with a shriek-- only the shriek was more a gurgle and a choke. She wanted to get up but the cover-thing was solid and not moving. Where the hell was she? The lights were blinding overhead so she kept her eyes shut. There were weird humming sounds buzzing above her but she didn't dare peek her eyes open.

_"You are awake."_ The voice was robotic and stilted and very unfamiliar. _"Your performance reliability is at 80% and climbing."_

Performance reliability? Wren groaned softly, wiggling a little more to test her bonds. Who the hell said 'performance reliability?' "Let me out." Her voice was a croak. She barely understood herself and for all she knew, she was telling whomever it was that she had gout or something.

There was a snap and a hiss. Wren lifted a hand up and found the barrier was gone. She rolled to her side and propped herself up on one arm. One eyelid pried open before clamping shut against the bright light.

_"Do you want to watch media?"_

"I want water." She groaned again. "I want to go home."

The second request was met with silence. A cup was in a little cubicle that contained fluid and she took her time to sip it, assuming it was water. At least she couldn't think it was anything else other than water. Hearing the hum again, she blearily focused upon a smallish floating sphere. It looked like a flying buckeye with two tiny lights around the lens; one white, one red. Wren's eyes crossed slightly as she tried to focus on it and it zipped up and around her head.

_"There are additional clothes in the company locker."_

"Where is mine?"

Another silence. Wren knew she had to keep moving and figuring out where she was. So far a brightly lit, white room left little to help her determine where she was. "What is this place? Where am I?"

_"You are in me."_

This was one really _weird_ conversation. A larger floating robotic eye floated into the room with tiny robotic appendages holding onto her clothes. What was left of her clothes? They didn't really look like they were wearable with the tears and rips she found. Wren would have probably felt even weirder if she were actually speaking to her benefactor in person. The cameras were weird enough--she half suspected they were taping for her future viewing pleasure. Why wouldn't she think that? After all, the answer " _You are in me_ ," was disturbing enough.

"How am I 'in' you? Where exactly am I?"

The response was not as quick as before. Wren decided to ask something else before the voice answered. "Did you bring me here?"

_"NO."_ While the volume to the voice didn't increase, it was clearly emphatic. _"I don't know how you arrived. We are in a wormhole and there was an unexplained malfunction to my sensors."_

She didn't know why she would feel this way, but there was some anguished undertone. Whoever rescued her was upset by the nature of it. "It's okay! I'm sorry I upset you." Whomever this was, she needed not to upset them. "Thank you for helping me."

_"That is what I have been programmed to do. I assist my human crew members in their research missions."_

Programmed? "...You're not human?"

_"No."_

Okay, so this person sounded offended again. Wren frowned as she pulled a grey shirt over her head. So much for decent undergarments. The bra was gone and what was left of her current clothes weren't decent enough to wear. "What are you?"

More floating eyeballs hoovered and whirled around her. Either they were scrutinizing her or imitated buzzards waiting for the kill to rot more.

_"I am Deep Space Research Vessel."_ The ... ship? Paused a moment. _"You may call me ART."_

ART. How that was a nickname for Deep Space Research Vessel she didn't know. Maybe it was just a name the ship picked out for itself. "So you're a ship."

_"Yes."_

"What...what kind of ship?"

_"I am a research vessel."_

"Not... not for sea travel?" Wren asked carefully, hoping against hope that space meant a vast sea that involved water and not actual space. If this was a sea vessel than they would mean she was on Earth and not...out in outer space!

_"SPACE TRAVEL."_ It stressed as the balls whirled in frantic distress around Wren as she staggered back and leaned heavily against a wall. _"Are you all right? My readings say your performance reliability has dropped."_

Wren was trapped in a ship--a _talking_ ship and it appeared that the flying things were the ship's eyes or whatever it used them for. "This is a lot to take in. So, let me get this straight. I somehow appeared inside you while you were zipping around in space but you don't know how or why I was transported here and now I'm stuck?"

_"My processors are advanced enough to come to a suitable conclusion once the anomaly has been rectified."_ It sounded insulted. So Wren had to deal with a talking spaceship with feelings. Lovely.

"Okay. So I should speak with your captain."

Silence.

Wren could feel her stomach drop. "Is...there a captain?"

_"My current directive is deep space research. I am returning back from my mission. This mission was unmanned."_

"So you're piloting _yourself?_!" This was too much. And it was too weird for her taste. "You're an autopilot?"

_"No."_ Not it almost sounded like it was patronizing her. _"I am a research vessel with processors to pilot, deflect debris and successfully perform twenty-three contracts for humans. 85% of those contracts are research-related for the university."_ There was a pause. _"That means I can pilot myself, care for your injured body that had no visible wounds but was clearly in some form of distress, maintain a suitable atmosphere within my hull, play _World Hoppers_ and several other media stories and ultimately have this conversation with you. And I have yet to reach 30% of my limitations."_

Oh, Wren knew an insult when she heard one. "Hey! Just because my brain isn't a badass processor, doesn't mean you get to call me stupid!"

_"...I did not. I am merely explaining my function and capabilities."_

She didn't know if it really didn't understand snide insults or if it was truly a literal machine with way too many emotions. "...Sorry/" Wren needed to sit down. She was still feeling a little woozy and wasn't certain how long she'd been unconscious. Sinking into a chair, Wren half brushed her face in her hand. "How long was I out?"

_"Approximately five cycles."_

"Does that mean a day cycle? Or a week or what?"

_"It means a cycle. 135 hours."_ Now the flying robot eyeball buzzed in closer. _"It is possible I may have missed subcranial damage."_

Now she was wryly amused. "You're telling me that out of your 70% unused function, you _might_ have missed that I may have a concussion?" Ha! That felt a little satisfying when the robot flew back as if to avoid a slap.

_"Your delirium does not match the symptoms of a subcranial injury."_

"Maybe because it's not delirium. Maybe because I'm not in my right time because as far as I know, there are no sentient AIs in 2019." Now Wren decided to glare at the robot. It had to be an interior representation of the ship. It was as good as anything and focusing on something other than talking to thin air made her feel a little more grounded. "Last I checked, the Google self-navigating cars were still getting into accidents."

The eyebot froze in place as if to stare at her. _"You are from a primitive planet?"_

"Earth. Yes. That's pretty primitive given your godly processors. Servers or whatever."

Now the eye bot came within centimeters of her face. She could feel the electromagnetic hum. _"You are from Ancient Eart prior to Augmented Rovers."_

"Whatever the hell those are."

Now the ship sounded awestruck when it spoke. _"This is _highly_ irregular. It is not something I have in my research memory banks. It is also something that has not been documented."_

She was entertainment for a relatively intelligent space ship! That concept boggled her and it was getting overwhelming. At least she was alone. At least she _hoped_ she had come alone. "Ah... ART?"

The eye-bot shifted at the sound of her voice. It hadn't responded verbally but she heard a soft ping sound. "There...there weren't any... you know. Floating bodies around you when I arrived, was there?"

_"That is not possible to determine. Traveling through a wormhole does not allow sensors to pick up debris human-sized or smaller."_

Wren had no idea if she wanted to feel relieved or sickened by that thought. If anyone had been caught by the odd anomaly, no one would know. "Okay. Thank you." The ship appeared distressed if the eye bot's erratic flight pattern around her was any indication.

_"I'm sorry I cannot provide more information. If there were others, they would not be aware of what happened."_

A robot's attempt at being sympathetic. She took it at that value and tucked her feet under herself to hug her knees to her chest.

 

)O)O)O)O)O)O)O)O)O)O)O

In the week (or ART's calculations of 189 hours) that Wren had spent on the ship, she was able to garner a preliminary overview of the galaxy: Corporations were the main governing bodies of planets and systems and many things contained tech or IT or AIs of some sort. Corporations were always on the lookout for sabotage, espionage and the ability to make a profit through the selling of proprietary information. There were humans, augmented humans, constructs, 'bots and then computer systems. There were some humanoids but they were normally classified under the sub-human scale depending on where they were. Depending on the Corporation, you could be classified as a citizen or not depending upon the corporation's regulations, not whether you were a sentient being.

Wren received a crash course in ship living, comm interfaces and general human livelihoods. Another thing she learned was that robots _loved_ media--at least those who had the AI capacity for it. It seemed as if bots and constructs had a certain caste system even if they weren't entirely aware of it on their own. Or maybe they were and she was just humanizing it so that she could understand.

This transport was into some serials--their nomenclature for a TV series about other transports and how those transports helped their humans. It wasn't as if said transports were as sentient as _this_ one, but Wren was slowly getting the idea of how robots would process human mannerisms and emotions. For instance, she knew that the transport was upset when there was a hull breach and some humans were sucked out of it: the eyebot (now she knew it was a drone) snuggled up into her side. Well, it was more or less smooshed itself into her torso but the point was made. In a show of comfort and sympathy, she curled an arm around it like a pet. When it was too upset it switched onto research and historical documentaries. Some of it Wren watched because she needed to familiarize herself with how the universe worked but the majority of it went over her head.

The one thing that didn't go over her head was the fact that it wasn't going to be easy to explain Wren's presence on an unmanned ship. ART's manifest contained no human passengers and now suddenly there was a manifest of one human. They were going to exit the wormhole in a few minutes and ART was trying to give Wren a crash course on how the transit ring worked. Most of the information went right over her head but one detail drew her out of her 'too much input' daze.

"Stop. What do you mean by 'Ancient Alien DNA?'"

_"In my analysis to treat you when you first arrived, my scanners acknowledged an unidentified alien DNA. It did not interfere with my treatment but it is apparent and detectable during scans."_ Then it added impatiently. _"As I said before, you will be scanned approximately fifty-seven times during your travel through the transit ring. That is something that cannot be ignored."_

Wren was still trying to figure out what it meant by 'Alien DNA.' "How do we hide it?"

_"You cannot. You have no ID markers or augments or other items other humans do. They will believe that you are a cloned human with a mix of ancient alien DNA."_

"Something has to be done. I can't go out with everyone else and find help."

There was silence again and Wren didn't demand an answer. She learned by now that ART was working on the problem. This seemed like a huge problem since it was silent for a full two minutes. It had to be _really_ thinking if it was taking longer than the usual several seconds. Then it answered. _"I can detour under the claim that I had a malfunction,"_ it started carefully. It must have had to swallow some robot pride to say that. _"And detour to Preservation. You can find help there."_

"Why there?"

_"I have a friend who is from there. It is a non-corporate planet and it will be easier to find asylum there."_ Then it added regretfully. _"If you come with me to my programmed destination, you will not be treated well."_

"Oh." Welll, that didn't seem any different than the norm when arriving in a strange universe. Taking in a breath, she let it out slowly. "Thank you for risking your mission to help me."

It didn't respond to the gratitude. Whether it didn't understand what she meant or how to respond to it she didn't know. It finally blipped some sound and then spoke. _"You do not have any currency in addition to no travel chits. This is the best option for your survival."_

Wren nodded, sinking into the pilot's chair as she watched them exit the worm hole. It wasn't unlike the simulated hyperdrive in Star Wars. That movie never mentioned the stomach lurch that happened during the shift.

_"Do not panic."_ ART reminded her as warning klaxons suddenly echoed through the ship. White light shifted to red and an alarming hissing could be heard. _"There is a compartment under that counter for a respirator. Put it over your interface. Do not remove the interface so you can remain in contact with me. It will also look more natural for you."_

"What is your planned malfunction?"

_"Failing life support. That will provide me with several cycles of downtime to help you."_

"Are you going to get into trouble for it?"

There was a flicker in the red lights. She didn't know how to interpret that. _"I have had to cover more complicated situations. This is minimal."_

Wren nodded slightly, diving for the special compartment. The breathing mask was self-explanatory and she sucked in a fresh breath as the lights flashed and an automated warning played through. The voice was explaining and directing potential panicked humans where to go to for safety. Wren was about to sit back down and wait when a thought struck her. Instead of sitting, she headed out of the bridge area and darted around towards the main living quarters.

_"What are you doing?"_

"Going to look suspicious if I'm just waiting here."

_"Get back to the bridge. Your safety cannot be guaranteed."_ ART sounded tense. It was worried about her The drone buzzed around her, trying to guide her back to safety.

"I'll be alright. You need to let me know when we're starting to dock."

_"You must return to the bridge. Decompression is imminent."_

"I'll be fine." Hearing a sudden snap, her head swerved to a hissing pipe. "Please trust me. If we need to pull off the fact I'm a refugee, then I can't sit pretty and smile when they find me."

_"You are taking an unnecessary risk."_

"We'll see each other again, ART. How long?"

_"Two seconds."_ If a research transport could shriek, it would have as it watched Wren run headlong into the wall, cracking the rebreather and falling unconscious.


	2. Worlds collide!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murderbot goes to see its not-family during its not-vacation.
> 
> ART hires Murderbot for free to protect its stray human.

Nineteen hundred hours later and I was ready for my paid leave to avoid annoying, stupid humans and download new media. It was welcomed to take a break from my ... assignment? Job? Career? I was still getting used to being 'hired' for contracts and Goodnight Lander Independent had been a surprisingly easy non-corp to work with. And I was pleased to say that I have not had a single death to the humans that were under my care. Murderbot's track record was on a steady incline.

Much to the dismay of some humans and sometimes myself.

It wasn't as if I really _wanted_ my humans dead. (Only when they exasperated me.) I was somewhat enjoying my dubious and cautious positive outlook. Those moments I believe were glitches in my programming and I always performed a diagnostics when I wasn't a pessimist. A new serial had just been released, _The Heart of the Sec_ and while it was no _Sanctuary Moon_ there was a little bit of pride that I had been consulted about the drama. News of my story had spread once a few select clips had been sent out into the feed. No one was allowed to record my current face and anyone who tried promptly had their systems hacked and I gave them something else to pay attention to. I very much liked that privacy. It was never my intention to spark the movement for construct autonomy and recognition. All I wanted to do was avoid humans altogether and consume media. Watching them in media was safer ... for them.

I'm 85% certain that the producers of HOS were going to give the SecUnit a _love interest_. I told them not to.

The last time I paid a visit to Dr. Mensah to collaborate with some other producers about another serial and told them that under no extenuating circumstances should their SecUnit have a love interest. Humans and their fascination for sex is entirely unnecessary. Pin-lee was nice enough to add a clause into the next contract.

On my way back to Preservation Alliance's transit station for my leave, I was still getting used to the fact that I didn't need to smuggle myself onto a transport. With the number of humans on this particular run, I almost wished I had. The cabin was crowded and I was seated next to a mother with the tiniest human I have ever seen. Its head was wobbly on a neck that didn't seem strong enough and it looked more like one of Dr. Mensah's human's toy animals than a person. And it _stared_ at me. Staring at me with the biggest, creepiest ice blue eyes I have seen on a human.

My ignoring it wasn't getting it to look away. I decided on a different tactic. I looked at it out of the corner of my eye. There weren't too many cameras I could use and none of the angles helped me at the moment. It noticed me and then giggled. This time I turned my head fifteen degrees toward it. Parents tended to get nervous when strangers looked at their offspring.

It was _leaking_ from its mouth.

How I managed a neutral expression I will never know. It was getting louder and more animated the longer it stared at me. I wondered if its mother had any awareness that her child was this active lest it topple over with its too large head. She was busy with some media feed, barely aware of the scene the infant was making. I do say barely because when it shrieked and threw its limbs everywhere, she merely bounced it on her knee. That seemed to settle it some. Then it attempted to feed itself its own fist, leaking all over _that_ as well. _And it didn't care._

I was suddenly very grateful that I had never been so infantile, nor I would ever need to experience this fabled miracle of parenthood. Children were loud, messy and excruciatingly delicate. I would rather hold onto an ionic charge set to detonate if 1/1,000 of a hair particle disturbed it.

And then the inevitable happened. She nearly dropped it. 

Human offspring shouldn't be born with their heads so large. Being top heavy was not a boon for survival in my opinion and with another shriek toppled over towards me. And I did what any self-respecting rampanging rogue SecUnit would do:

_I caught it._

That's right, I cradled the offspring's head with my hands, feeling its leaking fluids coat my fingers in slime. My face must have been in an expression of abject horror because the mother _finally_ started paying attention.

"Oh my--I'm sorry!"

The baby wasn't! That thing was happily chowing down on my finger. And its all of two teeth seemed exceptionally sharp though I didn't feel the need to dampen my pain receptors. Then the infant jerked and I panicked, thinking I somehow accidentally _killed_ it when all I did was prevent it from falling head first onto the floor. Suddenly something warm gushed around my fingers and I stared down, expecting to see blood and a crushed skull. Instead of a metallic iron smell, I detected an acidic odor to coincide with the milky, slightly frothy leavings in my hands.

Oh, that was _disgusting._

"I'm so sorry. Travel makes him a little sick." The mother was already apologizing again, looking up at me before trying to juggle the infant and then fish through a bag.

"It's all right." No, it _wasn't_ all right! I was holding onto offspring vomit and I could _feel_ everyone looking at me! This was usually about the time when the humans' fears came to life and the rogue SecUnit would start murdering everyone. What was I supposed to do with the puddle cupped in my hands? I was definitely _not_ going to wipe them on my clothes! I stood suddenly, ignoring the other jostled passengers. I needed to escape. No one would care if I hid in the restroom facility, would they? Too bad if they did. The trip would only take a few hours, they could wait. I must have had a larger expression of panic on my face than I intended for she stood up as well, reaching out with a cleaning cloth.

Nope. I was going to lock myself in the restroom, keep all cameras trained in the passenger area and watch my media in peace. Everyone else could fuck off because Murderbot was _not_ going to return to its seat. EVER.

Once the shuttle uncoupled and started lifting off, I settled into the cramped bath facility. After decontaminating my hands, I made certain there was an out of order code on the door and kept it locked. Spending over 18 hundred hours with humans- taking contracts, giving advice, making certain they didn't murder each other, I had improved my code to pretend to be human. It wasn't usually necessary since Goodnight Lander knew what I was and didn't care as long as I protected their assessment groups. I already did once...without a contract. The only casualty was a...

At this point the concept of the dead haunting you didn't seem so improbable.

I sighed. It was a relief to have some alone time and not deal with those humans. I'm sure they were perfectly good humans and they didn't seem the type to suddenly try and murder each other but I had about all I could take from getting stared at and leaked upon. Besides the fact that none of them were clients and I didn't _have_ to be around them. I didn't care if the trip was only for a few hours, it was still too much. Dr. Mensah, Ratti, Pin-lee and the others spoiled me the last time by providing camera systems for me during my last visit. I was mostly left to myself unless I initiated contact and that was a novelty that I was never going to get used to. I hoped I wouldn't, at least. The sudden immersion into a mass of loud, pushy humans was a shock. 

Two and one-half hours later I was thirty minutes into the _Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon_ episode 342; I received a ping. I sat up straighter, scanning cautiously for the source. The ping wasn't the bot pilot and none of the other augmented humans on the manifest had reason to contact me. Then a thought struck me and my augmented human code engaged again: I sucked in a sharp breath.

"... _ART_?"

_"SecUnit."_ The relief was clear in the feed even though the voice was still mostly sarcastic, asshole monotone. _"You _are_ here. You must arrive at my dock. I don't know if I can hold my doors closed before Port Authority forces me--"_

"What are you doing here?" ART was distressed and I opened another feed channel and was assaulted by warnings, ship diversions, and several Port Authority humans trying to figure out why a Deep Space Research Vessel had to detour to their transit station with a minor hull breach. I was wondering about that too, considering I was pretty sure that ART had a weapons array that could 'deflect' debris before it could ever breach its hull. ART filled me in with its digested version of picking up a stowaway while in the middle of a wormhole with no pirate boarding or another ship nearby to explain it.

There were shortened logs of recordings of a small human learning about bots and constructs and how the political climates were colored by corporations. I came to the startling realization that she knew _nothing_. It was like she didn't know anything about the galaxy. She wasn't stupid---

Correction. She _was_ stupid. I caught her smashing the rebreather in attempt to help ART cover the anomaly of a stowaway in its body during an unmanned mission. 

"What do you want _me_ to do with your stray?" 

I didn't need help collecting stupid humans and keep them from getting murdered. Whether it was because of their idiotic suicidal actions or attempts to murder each other, I didn't care. I was competent enough to find my own moronic strays all on my own.

_"You need to help her. She must be protected."_

"Why? Is she your pet?" That was not the term I should have used. That brought up too many bad memories.

The feed was private but I could tell ART was taking extra precautions. So was I, to be honest. No one needed to know I was speaking with a powerful research vessel while trying to get the shuttle to land as close to ART's dock as I could get it. It was an interesting mess of altering orders and directions without making it seem I was altering them. The directions to dock right next to the big, scary Research Vessel was there all along, little bot pilot. You'll be fine. The big, mean, scary Research Vessel won't eat you.

_"Her DNA contains ancient alien DNA."_

Oh. That changed some things. While GrayCris was still under surveillance, it hadn't halted its illegal mining of alien synthetics and the search to utilize it for their own profit. It merely got sneakier at it. And while it was half buried in litigation, the covert operations had continued. That had annoyed me but while they were being illegal under the eyes of the law, they didn't have time to go after my humans and I knew it was only a matter of time before they were destroyed for good. But _this._..this woman changed things. How a human managed to be infused with DNA that only existed in worlds where ancient civilizations were dead and gone would give cause to speculation.

Query 1: Was this human an escaped experiment of GrayCris?

Query 2: If she was, how extensive was GrayCris looking for her?

Query 3: If she wasn't, did GrayCris know about her?

Query 4: What if she was a _plant_ of some sort and working as a spy to get to Preservation and ultimately to Dr. Mensah?

If she was an escaped experiment, that would explain why she seemed ignorant and naive of how AIs were and what a simple interface was. It would be plausible to say that the corporation would keep their project as undereducated as possible to avoid an escape attempt like this. But if she wasn't knowledgable, _how_ did she escape from them?

Query 1 did not seem viable and I threw the theory out. There was no way GreyCris could make a human and not have at least the very basic interfaces implanted on her while in a Corporate Political location. Query 2 could still be tied into Query 1 but it also could be a stand-alone with some modification: What if she was not an experiment of GrayCris yet they knew of her existence? Having a living, breathing specimen with such DNA would pave the way of DNA alterations. (Like the humans needed to be augmented any more than they could be, now.) But that was probably something they would consider. They were idiots like that.

It _could_ be a precursor to infusing constructs with alien DNA....

I wanted to wipe that theory out of my memory so badly that my skin itched. It was bad enough I had to pretend to be human-if I had to pretend to be something else, I was going to fry my own brain, hacked governor module or not. However, I did have to concede to the fact that we didn't know if GrayCris knew about her existence. If not, then we had an advantage. If so, and she was a spy...

She wouldn't get close enough to Dr. Mensah to determine the color of her eyes.

I couldn't do anything until I made it to the transit station. There were another ten minutes to go before docking and all I could do was sit in my restroom haven and wait. I also had to keep ART calm while also bypassing more of Port Authority's protocol. Normally if a vessel was in distress, the doors would be forced open and armed security would clear the vessel before a formal investigation proceeded. At the moment they were trying to override ART's lockdown codes and it was only a matter of time before they made it past ART's defenses.

Goodnight Lander Independent did not have jurisdiction at this transit station but Port Authority didn't know that _I_ was from GI. Perhaps if I managed to fool them (who was I kidding? That would be easy) that I was working on behalf of the university. It was nice to work with ART in getting enough details and codes to pass as someone who was hired by the university to retrieve the transport. I didn't think I could be convincing enough that I have been on leave...

Yes, I know my acting abilities are limited. I'm a SecUnit, not an entertainment bot.

Programming an ID chip on the fly wasn't easy but it was possible. More than likely they wouldn't be looking too hard. They were going to be eager to clean this mess up and send ART on its way. Now that I had decided I was taking ART's contract (we hadn't even discussed currency, why am I doing this, again?) I needed to send an encrypted message to GI that I was going to be delayed. How long? I didn't know. Maybe a few cycles while I get this dealt with. She could become a refugee at Preservation if she checked out to be an actual human in need. She could also probably find a place to settle at GI as well. It all depended on her skill set.

Given how much of an idiot she was before docking, I was not confident she had any skill set. A few minutes before we were set to dock I left the safety of the restroom facility, ignored the glares from the humans who were inconvenienced and didn't care. None of them had been vomited on like I had. They could afford to be a little uncomfortable.

The bot pilot threw me a departure ping and I returned the gesture as I commandeered the drones trained on ART. It wasn't too far away, at most 500 meters. Armed PA surrounded the ship and an augmented human was working on ARTs interface to get access into the vessel.

_"SecUnit."_ The plea on my private feed made me move slightly faster as I fiddled with a billfold. Police force tended to carry them around and ART had mentioned there were times the university personnel had carried them. Putting on my vaguely annoyed that I was disturbed to deal with this fare, I strode into the group of people and zeroed in on the augmented human crouched in the doorway to ART's main hatch.

She focused outward on me and carried an unimpressed expression. "Who the hell are you?"

"I am the authority for this vessel." Now I understood why they carried their ID in a fold. It felt oddly satisfying to snap it open and then snap it shut before she could get a good look at it. "Your services are no longer needed."

"I _almost_ have the door open."

"Your services are no longer needed. I am a representative for the university and if you continue further, you will be in violation of university protocol and brought up on charges of burglary." It sounded better on the serial I pulled that from. I mean, I really had no idea if any of that was valid. I was just repeating what ART was feeding to me. There was a sneaking suspicion that another reason why ART was desperate was due to its 'debris deflector.' It couldn't possibly be for the human in its body. I still suspected that it was a weapon array even though ART refused to elaborate. Whatever. I kept what I hope was my best poker face and for an agonizing ten seconds, I waited. The relief on ART's feed when the augmented human receded nearly bowled me over. I remained standing and watched the human step aside with a flourishing bow. (Was that sarcastic? Mocking? I didn't know. Probably both.)

I didn't bother with a backward glance as I stood at the key panel. Putting in a random code, I didn't bother hiding my smirk as the door obediently hissed open. I wasn't going to trust the crowd of humans surrounding it. They were expecting raiders and I couldn't blame them. If I hadn't already spoken to ART and this was an unfamiliar vessel, _I_ would be expecting raiders too. The unusual docking of an unexpected spacecraft with no pre-approved authorization to dock and a hull breach was enough to make one paranoid. But I knew ART. And... I...trusted it. (Trusted it more than anyone I know. It was weird to admit that.)

I entered the cargo and waited for the hatch to close before moving forward. Red and white warning lights flashed with a strobe-like effect as the high pitched whine of hull breach sirens blared into the feed and my own ears. "You can turn that off." There was blessed silence. At least the siren was off. I could still hear the confusion on the main PA feed. I back burned it just in case they were getting nervous about the situation, ARTs drones buzzed around me and then led me towards the medsuite.

There ARTs stupid human was, sprawled out on the floor, legs and arms akimbo and face obscured by the cracked rebreather. Scanning for her vitals, she was breathing steadily with no obvious long term damage to her brain. (At least I hoped so. It wasn't like I was attached to a Med system right now.) Her skin was lightly tanned with dark, fluffy hair that reached past her shoulders. She was wearing standard clothes that ART provided without the university's emblem. There was no other damage to its hull save a small hole that was being repaired by some drones. Apparently, ART had it all under control and didn't need humans to help it.

"What do you want me to do with your stupid human?"

_"She cannot be with me upon my return."_ ART was adamant again while it started to run several diagnostics in the background. _"You work in non-corporate sectors. You hail from a non-corporate sector."_ There wasn't much I could do to calm the transport so I knelt down beside the prone figure. I verified her pulse and breathing by touch.

"They'll want to scan and question her. It doesn't matter where she goes."

_"We can pretend she's a student. A stowaway."_

We could. But that couldn't be workable. The only interface she had was a temporary, portable one. There were no augments, no ID implants, nothing. Even if a human didn't have augments, they normally had an ID somewhere. She had... nothing. Not even an interface. "Did she give you a name?"

_"Wren."_

Time to wing it. I gently picked her up and discussed with ART the best way to protect it. I headed for the door, finalizing a private med unit where I would have jurisdictions. That was worth a lot and I was mentally calculating what I had on my hard currency cards. With what my contract (ART) was paying me (nothing) all I could feel was a warm, melting sensation from the 'good feelings' of helping someone in need.

Yeah, don't believe that one.

I was still a little pissed off that I wasn't going to get paid, that ART had thrown itself into a tizzy for this human and that said human was going to be extremely troublesome until the entire situation was resolved or went to shit. Maybe if I pissed myself off enough I could walk away. It was a bad idea, an _extremely_ bad idea and I wanted nothing to do with it. Yet I picked her up, carried her gently and headed outside. When I walked out of the hatch, the pissed off expression must have been on my face because it took the other humans 4.5 seconds to respond. Three of them started to speak at me and I shook my head.

"She needs a medical eval. The ship is cleared and secured. The bot has direction not to open to anyone other than myself."

"And...who are you, sir?"

"Security Consultant Ben." I know, it's another ID. It was what ART gave me and apparently, this was actual security personnel at the university. Ben D'ver. The history was legit in case PA wanted to not half-ass their jobs. ART was excellent at tactical support. If I could have a personalized sec system, it would be mine. For GI I was Consultant Rin and I would rather keep that name out of trouble. "Are you going to direct me to medical or do I have to find it myself?:

Of course, I knew where medical was. I had a full map of the transit station and key locations and exit routes. Even if this was just inside the Corporate Rim, I couldn't be too careful. Asking her to show me where medical was, had been a defensive tactic. They needed to be distracted from ART for the time being.

Stumbling over her own words, the one PA escorted me to medical while the others formed a perimeter around ART. That was fine as long as they didn't try to break in. ART didn't need help keeping others out but having a supposed augmented human to bear the theoretical authority to back up its actions wasn't a bad idea. Over the past nineteen hundred hours, I had learned to develop my pretending to be an augmented human and while I tried to avoid dealing with humans on a voluntary basis, with ART here I couldn't pass up the opportunity for assessment on my coding. But I could say it was flawless. 99.8% flawless.

The PA was guided to the med unit that I had already hacked into and ART had made certain that the PA had no other alternative. Once in the room, I placed the human on the padded bench and turned back to the other. She was waiting for me. What did she think I was going to do, ask her to hold my hand?

"I will let you know if I need anything else...thank you." I added the last bit to dismiss her--she really didn't have my gratitude.

She wasn't impressed. Or ... surprised? The PA stood there for a minute, waiting for me to give in. Give into what or why I have no idea. But I refused to budge. Her direct eye contact unnerved me to the point where my performance reliability dropped to 97%. It was the longest time I've held eye contact with another human. Approximately 1.275 minutes. I _hated_ it. 

Finally, she turned and left. I thought she would never leave and it was all I could do to not slump on the med bed beside the human ART called 'Wren.' Vital signs were stable and it also showed anomalies in her DNA. That must have been the alien DNA that ART had been talking about. I would have to be meticulous in removing all records of her being on this station. That meant video, this med room and all the trace evidence she could spew about. Humans contaminated _everything._ It was obviously in their organic programming to touch, sneeze, cough on or do whatever their bodies were inclined to do when they were awake or while they were sleeping. MedSystem also indicated a mild concussion on her. Nothing severe enough that she needed to be awakened but I hoped that we wouldn't have to move about quickly. If an infant's vomit was vile, I did _not_ want to observe an adult human's.

Without ART's stray human showing signs of waking any time soon, I decided now was a good time for some media. I was going to need the downtime if I was going to take on this non-paying contract.


	3. pinocchio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snow day! Gotta love winter.
> 
> Wren and Murderbot finally meet each other. ART attempts to be a buffer.

She awoke with a start, gasping harshly and nearly throwing herself off the bed-platform- thing. Resistance stopped her and before she could take note of her surroundings she was already flailing, trying to fight back. The grip that stayed her arms was firm but not bruising. Her foot connected with her perceived assailant's side and it didn't move. There wasn't so much as a grunt yet it felt as if her foot had connected with a concrete wall and she keened, drawing her legs up towards her belly.

"Stop." The voice was low and calm but not remotely comforting. She didn't know where she was. Opening her eyes, it was a guy. Short cropped brown hair but not shaved, just the smattering of a five o'clock shadow, caucasian with brown eyes.

And he had one _hell_ of a grip! "Let me go," she demanded with more bravado than she felt. She was half surprised when he did. As soon as she was released, Wren scrambled up into the corner, hugging her knees to her chest as she watched the man warily. "Who are you?"

He dropped his gaze after a few moments and stared at the wall six inches to her left. "I'm security consultant Ben."

Wren didn't respond. She didn't know if she should. At the moment, it sounded like she was a prisoner. When she didn't answer, he glanced back at her. "Our mutual...friend...directed me to you."

She wasn't going blindly trust him. Not after what ART was saying about what the humans in this universe were doing. "So?"

Ben appeared bored and simply handed her the comm interface. "It can tell you itself."

Wren wasn't completely on board with trusting this guy. There was something about him that put her hairs on end but she didn't know what or why. Slowly, she took the earpiece from his hand; it felt warm. She put the piece in her ear and with her awkward use of the interface, murmured softly. "ART?"

_"I have been monitoring your vitals since the med system. Your function reliability is at 90% and climbing."_

Ben stared at her, listening to them on the feed and as Wren spoke aloud. Did she think they were on a private feed? And she didn't need to speak out loud. Didn't she know that?

A smile played on Wren's face at the transport's report. "Thank you for keeping an eye on me." There was no response from ART so she decided to press on. "So who's this guy? Did you send him for me?"

_"SecUnit is not gendered."_

"SecUnit?" Her brows lifted up as she looked to the person. Ben couldn't recover and make his face blank. Clearly, it was shocked and possibly embarrassed. The only way it could avoid further mortification was to turn away from Wren and face the wall. Her brow furrowed in confusion.

_"When I offered to alter its configuration, it refused any gender-related parts."_

"I am a SecUnit, _not_ a Sexbot." Ben was on the feed and Wren didn't hear its voice outside of the feed. Did it sound.offended? Defensive?

_"Sexbot is not an official designation."_

"And there is no reason why I would need any of _that_."

_"I felt that it would enhance your ability to-"_

" _Not. That._ "

Wren looked up at Ben ...was she supposed to call hi--er...it...that? Or SecUnit? "Okay, you two. Play nice."

SecUnit flinched. It must have forgotten she was there. 

"You two can have your lover's spat later."

Now it turned to stare at her. Wren avoided looking at him directly. ART spoke next. _"SecUnit is trustworthy. It is shy."_

"ART." SecUnit practically growled.

"Thank you, ART!" She chirped cheerfully. "You've been so helpful to me. And thank you for asking your friend to help me. I'll see you soon." Hopefully, that was enough to put the argument to bed. SecUnit had returned to staring at the wall, refusing to move. Wren watched its side for a moment, then starred at a spot by her right knee. "Now I know what the 'A' stands for." Taking a breath, she shifted her head towards SecUnit. "What do you want me to call you?"

"Security Consultant Ben," it responded after a long moment. 

"The whole title?"

The SecUnit continued to stare. "Ben is fine. I do not have a contract with you."

"Okay." Wren sounded uncertain of things but she nodded anyway. "What's next?"

"Do you have any idea how you came to be inside ART? While it was moving within the wormhole?" It turned back towards her, appearing to be wary but willing to grill her for information.

"I don't know." She stared it in the eye and didn't look away. "But...sometimes odd things happen." 

"Anomalies."

"Sure." Wren shrugged. "It doesn't look like this universe works exactly like mine. So I doubt I'm in a future timeline."

There was another three-second pause. "Why do you think you are from an alternate universe?" It didn't believe her.

Its attitude made her defensive. "Why do you think that's a farfetched theory?"

"It's unrealistic." 

"Is it?"

Two more seconds. "That is a storyline for an unrealistic serial. It's not reality."

"Maybe not your reality." Wren watched as SecUnit continued to stare at her. Was it processing what she said, considering the possibilities of alternate dimensions and universes? Could it possibly be conversing with ART and collaborating the data Wren had provided it?

"I cannot access a proper psych eval module for your particular delusion."

Her jaw dropped. "...Did you just call me insane?"

"No, I believe the partial concussion you have given yourself is glitching your thoughts." Ben took a step forward. "Your theory is the most moronic, idiotic thing I have heard from a human who wasn't in a serial!" That held exasperated emotion. It was also something Wren reacted to.

"Says the sassy robot who's friend says is shy."

It lashed out, showing real anger. "Not a 'bot! I'm a _construct_."

Wren herself was riled up, her voice increasing in volume. "Oh. _I'm sorry_. I stand corrected. The sassy, _moody_ construct."

She didn't have time to squeak out in surprise when the SecUnit corralled her against the corner of the platform. Its face was so close to hers it could feel her breath. "It is also idiotic to fuck with a SecUnit. It is even _more_ idiotic to fuck with a rogue SecUnit."

"Why is that?" She was nervous but she was also glaring at it, not truly afraid. It was looking at her, _really_ looking at her and it eased back a bit.

"Because rogue SecUnits go on murdering rampages at the drop of a hat."

 _That_ was resentment. The nearly growling response made Wren pause. In a steady voice, she asked, "And how long have you been a rampaging, murdering rogue SecUnit?"

"Approximately 50 thousand hours."

She relaxed a little more, growing calmer. "You really suck at being a rampaging murder, then."

"Maybe I decided to start up now."

"I don't have a hat to drop."

Stalemate. They were frozen like that for another minute before it pulled back, breaking eye contact first. Wren shifted her gaze a moment later, focusing on its shoulder. "I trust ART. It said you were trustworthy and had rescued many humans. And since humans seem to be bent on dissecting me for my DNA or whatever...I trust bots and _constructs_ more than humans right now."

_"I told you I was trustworthy."_ ART interjected smugly on both of their feeds.

SecUnit abruptly turned towards the wall in such a way that allowed it to keep Wren in its peripheral vision.

_"Stop. Sulking."_

It twitched, making Wren freeze for a moment. Its shoulder relaxed somewhat and its head tilted very slightly towards her. "I told you SecUnits don't sulk." That had to have been directed towards ART and not her.

Wren did her best not to curl her lips into a smile but couldn't keep it from her eyes. "So what's the plan, Stan?"

"Ben," SecUnit corrected, not picking up on the slang. "We will get you out of the Corporate Rim. I have friends on a non-corporate planet where you can find refuge."

"Will my family be able to find me there?"

If she had people looking for her, it could be GrayCris. Maybe they told her they were family. The question sounded innocent but it couldn't help but be apprehensive. "You have family looking for you? Do you know that?"

Wren shrugged. "Eventually they'll find me. They always do."

"Maybe one day they'll stop."

That earned it a glare from Wren and a retort from ART. _"That was mean."_

"Not unusual for a mean, sassy, moody SecUnit," Wren muttered aloud.

A frustrated groan came from SecUnit and it turned back towards Wren. "Stop. It."

A tense silence fell on the three of them. Wren decided to curl up on the platform and look miserable while SecUnit stared at her. Eventually, it turned towards the wall. If there was a conversation going on between the AIs, Wren wasn't privy to it and she was fine with that. For a few minutes, they stayed in the medical suite, silent save for the quiet whirr of the ventilation and hum of the medical scanners.

_"--Flux Coms is the best midway point between here and Preservation."_ ART's voice was suddenly in the feed and Wren startled. She must have been dozing in the quiet. Now she squeaked and nearly fell off the platform.

_"Wren?"_ 

"I'm okay!" Still speaking out loud. Wren waved SecUnit off while she stretched. "I dozed off. Sorry!"

"From there I can secure transport to Preservation Alliance." SecUnit paused a moment more. "I could also send a long-range message from here to Dr. Mensah."

_"That would be a good idea. In the meantime, I have twenty hours to ensure repairs are satisfactory."_

Which meant they could not leave for another cycle. SecUnit turned to look at Wren's shoulder. She didn't say anything about it. "Have you eaten?"

"No. Do humans still eat?" She carefully stood up, taking a moment to straighten her clothes.

"Yes." SecUnit didn't bother to stop its eye roll. In the feed, it addressed ART. "What ID did you fit her with?"

_"I used her own name to create an identification marker."_

"Whrennah Starfyr. Creative Writing major," Wren added helpfully, following the SecUnit out.

There was a common eating area in the mall that was mildly crowded. Wren's eyes were swiveling to look at all of the flashing displays and holos and buzzing drones. She was oblivious to all the work SecUnit and ART were doing to keep them from being monitored and recorded. People brushed by them, more intent on their own agendas and feeds to worry about an awestruck woman and her gloomy companion.

At the food court, there were semi-private booths in the center and food kiosks around the perimeter of the area. A multitude of languages was being spoken around her and the sights of humans, augmented humans and altered humanoids--maybe bots, maybe not bots were becoming a little overwhelming. The smell of food didn't quite persuade her from leaving her comfort zone near SecUnit; in fact, she sidled up closer to it, making it startle.

_"Calm down."_ ART admonished.

"Sorry." Wren couldn't bring herself to step away. "Crowds. I don't know how anything works, around here."

SecUnit stared at her.

"And...I'm broke. Haven't had the chance to find a job or anything, you know." 

There was a moment's hesitation before it took her hand and lead the way. She followed dutifully, altering their grip so it was comfortable. It didn't protest. ART guided them through the myriad of kiosks to a food distribution center that most of the university students tended to prefer. Wren took ARTs suggestions for protein, some carb cover and vegetation, followed by a fruity, flavored drink.

Wren watched carefully as SecUnit used a hard currency card. "Thank you," she said quietly before following it to a booth. She thought nothing of slipping to the inside and allowing it access to the outer seating. From her inner seat, she managed to take note of two exit routes and then settled into her meal, taking small nibbled at first to test the flavor of the food.

"So tell me," she started, ignoring the way SecUnit seemed to freeze in place. "What's the difference between a 'bot and a construct?"

"In case you don't understand, you can speak into the feed without vocalizing," SecUnit responded without speaking. "That question would be appropriate to ask that way since this is a private channel."

"I don't like talking in my head. That's the sign of a crazy person." She didn't bother to look up, but she knew that it had turned to stare at her. "I don't want to be any crazier than you perceive me to be."

SecUnit was just about to say 'too late' but caution from ART's private channel stopped it. "A bot is completely inorganic where a construct is comprised of both organic and inorganic parts."

"Where do the organic parts come from? And how much of it?" She looked up then. "Is it just... like an outer layer of skin or are there organs involved?"

This seemed to pique ART's interest as well and pinged SecUnit when it didn't answer right away. "There are education modules--"

She shook her head, taking a napkin to wipe her mouth. "No. ART tried that and I thought my head was going to explode. My brain's not wired like that. I didn't grow up under a constant barrage of..." She waved her hand in a vague gesture. "Talking and pictures and sound and all of this, stuff...pounding into my brain at all hours. It's too loud and too much for me. That's why I don't talk in my head. I don't like it."

"You may not have a choice," SecUnit responded verbally. "You will need to change in order to fit in. To move undetected." There was an odd buzz from ART, but nothing else.

"But that's not _me_."

The other sat back, watching her carefully. She dropped her gaze, focusing on her drink before picking off a condiment from her sandwich. She had picked out a cooked protein patty that had layers of vegetation on it. The yellow ring bits were not to her liking.

"A construct is made up of cloned human skin, neuro tissue, some muscle, blood, fluid, and lungs. They do not have a digestive system. It's not like an augmented human who is a person fitted with augments, it is more like a bot outfitted with human parts."

"Why? Why have a 'bot be more human-like?"

"It acts as a failsafe of sorts. There are perceptions organic material can have that inorganic material is incapable of having. There is a greater sense of self-preservation, increased tactile and motor skills. They are programmed to have a sensation where a bot does not. It goes beyond normal pressure sensors." It was dreading the next question. Humans always went on to the next topic which was sex-related. If she asked that, it didn't know what it was going to do.

"Are they all programmed with self-awareness? I mean, willful self-awareness."

 _That_ was... unexpected. "I don't know," it responded carefully after a long pause. "I have not asked any constructs that. But the processing power on a particular AI would determine how much self-awareness it has. Simple pilot bots programmed for transport on a specific route would not have the same self-awareness as a research vessel." It didn't say SecUnit.

Wren nodded. "I want to ask more, but was told it wasn't safe. So I'll be satisfied with that." She seemed calmer after its explanation and that was confusing in of itself.

"What media have you watched so far?"

That was a safer topic. Wren had been boarding on illegal conversation and she obviously did not come from a society where the government micromanaged their population. " _World Hoppers_ ," she answered. "On repeat. I can almost recite the script verbatim at this point. There are more shows than just _Wold Hoppers,_ right?"

There was something on the feed that was a 'bot's equivalent to a grumble. Wren smirked and SecUnit tilted its head slightly. "There are thousands of hours of entertainment media. Not only serials but music, literacy, art--"

_"Her humor is not appreciated."_

"It too was funny," Wren muttered. "Humans...well, at least I can say for myself. that I must have a very easily distracted mind. Do they watch the same episode repetitively for half a day?"

"Human brains and 'bot brains process data differently," SecUnit responded before another fight could happen.

"I'm sorry in advance for being ADHD, then," she murmured. "I'm sure it's annoying."

She finished her meal quietly. SecUnit didn't continue the conversation and ART was silent on its end as well. She assumed they were talking to each other or at the very least maybe watching _World Hoppers_ episode 13. On rapid repeat. Maybe they already watched it three times before she finished her meal. Wren figured that if they were AIs, they could watch or read or listen to things at a much faster pace than she could.

Wren deposited the trash she had into a recycler and asked for another drink 'for the road.' The fizzy, fruity beverage was liked and it made her feel better. SecUnit obliged because if she was drinking that, she wasn't speaking to it. He even purchased some portable bottles with the beverage. Just in case he needed it for her.

They couldn't stay on ART until the vessel was officially cleared and that wouldn't happen until the beginning of the next cycle. SecUnit found a cheap hostel and once again made use of its hard currency card to make the purchase upon entering the room, Wren noted it wasn't much different. Than any other cheap hotel room she had ever been at. A desk with a display screen, a spot to charge interfaces, a raised platform (by raised, it was only 20 centimeters off the floor) for sleeping. Folded neatly at one corner of the platform were sleeping items that were common for this particular hostel; a rolled up mat, one blanket and some wafer thing that Wren assumed was meant to be a pillow. And there was another set for SecUnit as well.

The second bedding set encouraged her curiosity. "Do you sleep?"

"Not the way you do." It was still hesitant in answering but she hadn't asked about its feelings or if it was interested in sex, so it answered. "I do have stasis cycles where I am unaware of my surroundings or the passage of time. But that is needed less frequently than humans who require sleep on a regular basis."

"Do you dream?" There was a long silence and she looked up. "I'm sorry. You can tell me to stop if you don't want to answer."

"I do not mind answering questions about my function," SecUnit answered quietly. "Sometimes, my organic neuro tissue does."

"Not a brain?"

"It's...not the same thing for humans. I can't explain how as I don't have the module on 'how to make SecUnits,' but I think that what would be considered my _brain_ would not match what your understanding of a _brain_ is."

"Okay." She accepted the answer and started making a spot for herself on the platform closest to the wall. When readily gave SecUnit access to the doorway, making certain she wouldn't be in the way of it and trouble. And that was something it noticed. "If I go out of bounds with my questions, you can tell me to shut up."

"Will you actually shut up?"

Wren nodded. "I'll stop asking."

It was tempting to tell her that right now. Yet for some reason, it didn't and it didn't know why. "Do you...have any other questions."

The query caused Wren to smile. "Do you eat?"

"My power cells are self charging. As I said before, I don't have a digestive system."

"I know but how do you nourish you organic parts? Cells need protein and amino acids in order to replicate and grow." 

"My power cells."

Wren felt it was her turn to stare. "What if you loose a good chunk of you? Like an arm or a leg?"

"The inorganic skeleton can be replaced. Then the coding for my organic parts would be adjusted so that the proper amount of skin can be repaired."

"Do you age?" She sat upon her mat, gesturing for a moment as she tried to define the question better. "I mean...will your face show age like a human?"

"It is not coded like that." SecUnit paused. "It could be, but I don't want to"

"Right. Forever young."

"How old are you?" Since Wren thought it was fun to ask the SecUnit questions, it decided it was only fair to return the favor.

"Twenty-four by Earth's standards. Technically, I'm old enough to have graduated from university, probably be married and have at least one kid by now. If I don't focus on a career and climb up the proverbial corporate ladder.--Not that my government is anything like these worlds. I mean...it probably could get this bad. I don't know."

So Wren liked to go off on tangents. That was probably going to be a hindrance if they got into trouble. "Did you chose that major or did ART?"

"Oh, I was a creative writing major."

"For...entertainment media?"

She caught the hopeful, curious tone SecUnit had. "Sure. I like telling stories. And I think I tell them well enough to make the talent profitable."

"Profitable enough to remove yourself from reality?"

"And pay bills and food. Who doesn't like a vacation outside of their own depressing reality?"

SecUnit went quiet again and Wren decided to investigate the bath facility. Remembering that humans had their own maintenance rituals, it dug through its travel bacg and pulled out the basic toiletries it carried for props to complete its disguise of an augmented human. There was an unused bar of soap, washcloth, dental powder and dental brush. Since its hair was so short, there was no need for hair care products. It set the items down on the desk in plain view and waited for her return. If it was lucky, she wouldn't make a big deal of the items.

She saw the toiletries set aside and glanced over to SecUnit. It decided to answer before she asked. "I do not use them. I carry them as props to disguise myself. To the public, I'm a heavily augmented human." Wren couldn't help but flash it a grin.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would like to say that this plot bunny is currently monopolizing my brain. You're welcome. I'm also bringing back some oldies but goodies related to some old cult SciFi funness. Let me know if you recognize them when they show up!

Wren fell asleep after two episodes of _Dramatic Vengance_. It was a serial of convicts who had been released in order to use their skills for good. So they fought crime with their own criminal skills. I was surprised that I liked the serial. Was it because of criminals were rehabilitated under duress or the fact it was the "underdog" (a new slang term I picked up from our stray human) was coming out on top. She was the one who pointed out the strange, repetitive anomalies as _Easter Eggs_ and explained to ART and myself that humans enjoyed leaving hints and clues to honor other serials or hint at the dramatic plot of future serials. The producers of DV happened to be the ones who produced _Sanctuary Moon_ so when she had slept, ART and I scavenged for more of these 'Easter Eggs' between the two shows. When her breathing had deepened and evened out I turned the display off but kept the feed running on ART's.

Carefully, I leaned over and removed the interface from Wren's ear and set it aside. _"She often went into stasis watching media with me. I think the sound helps relax her."_

"Weird when she says that she doesn't like the flood of information on the interface." It wasn't weird. It was contradictory. At least she was a clean human now and the subtle odor of soap was not unpleasant. If I recall correctly, the label on it had designated it as lavender and jasmine. "What else did she say about herself?: If I was going to protect her and get her to Preservation Alliance safely, the more I knew, the better. Not easier, though.

_"Her world does not have fully developed AI. It is in the infantile stages."_

"Augmented rover?"

_"Earlier."_ ART played back some clips where she and it were speaking to each other. She spoke of her home and how it was a farm. Her family sounded much like Dr. Mensah's only there were two offspring, herself and an older sibling. So dropping her into the capable hands of Mensah was the best case scenario. It actually was perfect! I wouldn't have to deal with her for long and I could go about my business and head back over to GI.

"Then she won't have an issue with Preservation."

_"Did she want to go to Preservation? Ultimately?"_

"That's the best recourse." Whatever ART was trying to get at, I didn't know. I didn't care. The sooner I was done with this, the better.

We watched three more episodes and some time during that time Wren had shifted closer to me in her sleep. She actually touched me during a high tension scene in DV and I swallowed back a yelp. 

_"You're warm,"_ ART added. As if I didn't know that.

Touching her cheek with my fingers, I noted she was cooler than the ambient temperature. I increased my own body temperature and pulled out the blanket that was meant for one to lay over the one she was using. My hand brushed over her soft hair and I watched her for another moment, missing the episode's cliff hanger.

"Do you believe her about family?"

_"Her facial expressions and blood pressure do not indicate any false information. Who she perceives as a family is her family."_

"It could be GrayCris."

_"And if that is her family, then your crew could be in danger."_

My 'crew' was the Preservation Aux team. And while I felt that Wren would be better protected on Preservation, there was still a 30% chance that GrayCris was after her. I was still leery about bringing her to Preservation even though I wanted this problem to go away. "Yes."

There were two seconds of silence. _"If we agree on the theory that she was a project of GrayCris, it appears that she is not aware of that or of the position you were put into."_

"The position I was put into? _You_ put me into this position!" The beauty of speaking into the feed was that I could yell at ART and not wake up the human. "This is _your_ pet human, not mine. We will put her in a safe place and she can continue on with her life. Safe. And out of the hands of GrayCris."

_"She does not want to make a new life. She has her own."_

"Well, maybe she should have thought of that before she dropped into your body out of thin air."

_"I don't know. I am 95% certain that her actions are not malicious."_

There was no way she could know about my agitation. I was speaking to ART on the feed and not out loud. I was not human; I don't make random movements in reaction to emotions when my augmented human code was not running. Her ear comm was on the desk and deactivated for an overnight charge. And when I speak on the feed, like a good SecUnit I don't move. Wren had been sleeping with her back against the length of my leg; I was sitting up with my back against the wall. She had shifted unexpectedly on her back and moved her hand onto my shin.

"S'okay," she murmured, giving my leg was could only be translated as a comforting squeeze before drifting back into a deeper sleep, letting her hand relax on my leg. That _never_ would have happened if she was awake.

_"That anomaly is unique,"_ ART supplied. I was still staring at her.

"What anomaly?"

My Asshole Research Transport decided that I needed it spelled out. _"She hears things."_

"Of course she does; she has functioning ears."

_"Her comm device is deactivated. How did she hear our conversation? You did not speak out loud."_

I know I hadn't spoken out loud. And I hadn't moved, either! So how had she known I was having an emotion? Something had to have gone wrong. I must have moved. Was I running my augmented human code and not aware of it? I needed to find out. "I'm going to run some diagnostics. I might have some broken code." I was fairly certain I didn't. But explaining how she knew needed to happen. Especially if my code had a bug in it.

 

********************

 

I brought myself back online, frustrated that my code--as I knew-- was impeccably perfect. No glitches, no bugs. I had not moved one muscle, organic or otherwise, to indicate that I was remotely distressed. Wren had no implants. There was no way that she could possibly _have_ any implants and I not pick up on it. And even if my processors were somehow faulty, there was no way for ART to miss something like that. Not when it could squash me like a bug.

When I awoke and brought all my systems online, I realized I was missing a small, warm human beside me. In fact, I didn't even see her in the room. I had set a proximity alarm by the door in case someone walked too close to it. It could have doubled as a security system to make certain Wren didn't wander off. Nothing seemed off the line and it wasn't tripped but given my confused state of 'how the hell did she know I was yelling at ART last night?' I wasn't about to dismiss anything. There was no reason to panic. "ART? Is she with you?" My eyes zeroed in on the earpiece I had left by the display surface. Good job, Murderbot. You lost your contract because you felt comfortable enough to go into stasis. Or uncomfortable enough to go into stasis. Maybe it was a good thing I wasn't getting paid. I should have already been fired.

_"Wren is not online."_ ART paused for a moment. _"Her interface is not active."_

"She doesn't have it on," I supplied lamely. "I was wondering if she was physically with you."

There was dead silence for 2.13 seconds. _"Your security has not been breached."_

"I know that."

_"Then what is your malfunction?"_

"I don't _have_ one. That's the problem." Now I was sounding desperate. I _hated_ sounding desperate. "What if she could get past--"

_"Illogical. Wren couldn't tolerate a comm interface for long periods of time. She is not capable of performing standard programming functions that children are taught at an early age."_ ART sounded very certain of that. And its tone implied I was being irrational.

"Yeah?" Well, what about those anomalies you were saying earlier?" Those words I hissed through the feed. "The ones where you said she hears things?"

_" _Now_ you believe me? What has changed your mind?"_

It didn't need to know how paranoid I really was and what ART said had increased that paranoia by 40%. The door to the restroom facility hissed open and I jumped, reacting with base programming. My energy weapons slid into view and were aimed directly at Wren. Both of her hands were up in a universal gesture of fealty. "Ben?" She was wary, but not frightened. It was almost infuriating that she wasn't frightened.

A brief moment of hesitation (only 0.003 seconds) delayed my standing down. "You didn't leave."

"Of course not. Where would I go?" Now she was giving me a look like I was crazy. "I don't know how to do anything. Hell, I'm lucky we speak the same language."

"Standard Lexicon." What she was saying had been invoking weird emotions that I didn't understand and didn't have time to understand. I just... stood there like an idiot, watching her. She placed the toiletries I gave her into her pack and put her sleeping matt away. 

"I'm glad you're up. I didn't want to wake you if I could help it."

That was an odd statement to make. "Why?"

"I know waking people with hair-trigger reflexes can get your head blown off." Her eyes-they were almost a metallic silver (that couldn't have been natural)-lingered on the gun ports in my forearms. "My family has fighters--it's not good to wake them unexpectedly, either." Out of her pack, she pulled out two dark-colored sticks and then bent over, pulling her damp hair over her head like a curtain.

I was still standing there (still feeling like an idiot.) I had gotten spooked, over paranoid and nearly blew my contract's head off...do I call her a contract? She wasn't my client, ART was. She wasn't a target, either. Now she was twisting her hair into a specific pattern, making loose twists here and there so that it flowed into some design that was surprisingly soothing to look at. She applied two sticks that were of some dark material but the ends were tipped in metal. One end was a point and the other was rounded with a colored charm dangling from a short chain. It looked like a nice fashion and it wasn't one I was familiar with. Not that I cared about human fashion in the first place.

Stop getting attached, Murderbot.

"Okay, I'm all set. We're heading back to ART, right? Oh! My little earpiece thing." She snatched that from the charging ledge and fitted that into her ear. "Ben? Hello, you here?" Her hand waved in front of my face.

I was _still _standing there. I moved then in reaction to the wave, engaging my never-bugged-in-the-first-place augmented human code and picked up my pack. "Are you hungry?"__

__"I'd rather eat when we're on our way," she responded, sounding a little distracted. "Good morn, ART!" Again, she was verbal as she spoke on the feed. It was annoying. Frustrating. Something...._ _

___"Did you have a good rest period, Wren?"_ Huh. ART sounded less like a pretentious asshole when speaking with her. So it only saved that tone for me?_ _

__"As best as can be expected."_ _

__I agreed with Wren's sentiment that the sooner we were moving, the better. I preferred to be protected in the privacy of ART's hull than on the station. "Let's go." At least on the ship, there weren't any foreign scanners and I could deal with just one strange human. At least I tried to convince myself that I could manage one strange human._ _

__We walked casually through the transit mall. I had told Wren what the backstory was for myself and her situation so she could attempt to look the part of a stowaway student in deep trouble. That wasn't difficult to pull off considering she was in deep trouble for other reasons. Heading towards the PA office (as I still needed to send my message to Dr. Mensah; she would be Wren's professor, so in case the message was hacked, the hackers wouldn't suspect anything.) There was a group of other humans walking towards us. They were young males, all looking at Wren. In fact, they were taking an abnormal amount of time looking at her. Me? I wasn't even a blip on their hormone infused radar._ _

__"Hey there, pretty lady~" one crooned. "Looking mighty fine, there."_ _

__"Ignore them," I directed on our feed._ _

__This time she spoke into the feed only and not out loud. "I know that." Her eyes never shifted._ _

__There were whistles and clicks from them in an attempt to attract her attention as well as signal their readiness to have sex. There were four humans, all young, all male, and more than likely about the same age as Wren. And they were all incredibly stupid. I increased my walking pace, putting a hand to the small of her back and she reacted immediately. Wren matched my pace and relaxed into my touch. That was strange. Normally when I had to touch humans and they knew what I really was, they would tense up and prepare to be murdered even though I was trying to keep them from being murdered in the first place. My scanners did show that her heart rate was elevated even though she looked bored at the males pursuing her. She was ready in case we needed to move quickly._ _

__They were still following, taunting her and saying how they could be better at 'keeping it up' than the old man she had. ART was ever so helpful in explaining the insult as if being without gender meant that I was clueless. Normally I was clueless about most sex-related issues but playing relationship counselor that one time helped. Unfortunately. I wasn't clueless and silently I agreed that the humans weren't wrong; I simply had zero interest. And with the way they were behaving at the prospect of a ... mate? Sex partner? I was glad that I never would._ _

__One was stupid enough to touch her in the empty corridor we were in. As soon as they started to follow, I had altered our path just in case I needed to deal with them as unobtrusively as possible. It seemed that was going to be the case. Target One grabbed her sleeve by the shoulder and she twisted away just as I reacted. It was an interesting event: normally I have the confused, dead weight of a human I was preventing from being murdered to try and counter what the target was doing. They often got in the way and impeded my movements. Wren was...she was different and almost like Dr. Mensah. My first action was to twist her away from her assailant and she went with the flow, even going as far as to grip my shoulder and keep her feet off the floor. At this point I should add that fumbling, clumsy humans don't inhibit my function much, maybe 5% at most if they were extremely unwieldy. My weight and strength could easily compensate for increased mass. She barely ticked a half percent as I completed the turn and smashed the heel of my palm into the male's nose. He went down in a heap and the others charged, two with bladed weapons and the third with a projectile._ _

__I heard the projectile hit the chamber and swung her again so that I would take the hit just after I turned down my pain sensors. I felt it enter my side and that pissed me off. The weight she carried completed the circle and she surprised me by kicking Target Two in the torso, throwing him back and out of play. I focused on the one with the projectile as he was an immediate threat. My hand found his throat and I grabbed him, squeezing only hard enough to lift and throw him into the wall behind him. There was a satisfying smack and he slid down the wall, unconscious._ _

__The last male saw both of us turn to him and he fled. I had just enough time to tell her, "Stay," and I was chasing the last male. If I was able to run at my top speed, I would have caught him within twenty meters. The male had the opportunity to reach the rest of the population and try to disappear into the crowd. Slowing my pace, I used the security cameras to track him. There was no need to chase my quarry when I had twenty eyes trained on him. It was fine to let him fall into a false sense of security and make him believe he was in the clear. I took side passages, preparing to meet him at another empty corridor where I would have the cameras all to myself._ _

__There was a strong feeling of self-satisfaction when he clotheslined himself on my arm. He recoiled back, choking more than screaming. I said absolutely nothing as I continued to stalk him, my expression was menacing. He scrambled back, whimpering as he tried to get to his feet. "Don't kill me, man! We didn't mean it!" He screamed when I snatched him up and pressed him up against the wall with one hand._ _

__"Who. Sent. You?" There were no designations on his clothing. It was unlikely he was GrayCris but I was programmed to be paranoid. I wasn't going to stop that function. "Did GrayCris send you?"_ _

__"What? _NO_! Why would they send me? What are you talking about?"_ _

__"If they sent you, and you're lying--" I closed my hand around his throat a little more, just to induce his panic so he would tell the truth._ _

__He squawked, struggling in a panic as both his hands clawed at my wrist with the cutting blade forgotten and dropped to the floor. I heard something wet splash on the floor but didn't alter my expression. "-N-no one sent us! Promise! W-w-w-w-we didn't know she was yours! We'll leave her alone, man, just don't kill me!"_ _

__I pressed my fingers on the artery in his neck to make him pass out. Once he slumped to the deck, I was searching his pockets for ID, ignoring the dark stain on the front of his pants. I found the marker, scanned it and saved it for future analysis. ART was pinging my feed. The private one. That's just what I needed while I was trying to get back to my contract._ _

__"What!"_ _

___"She is offline."__ _

__... _Shit.__ _


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, remember when I said that updating may be spotty with this fic? IT HAS DOMINATED MY BRAIN. Seriously. I'm like writing out Chapter 9 as I type and post up Chapter 5. I'm thoroughly enjoying this and hope you folks are as well. Please pay no mind to the weird spellings. I only have the audible books to go on which makes things interesting. I keep playing them over and over and thinking... ooooh, I have to change this and that and the other thing now!
> 
> Chapter Summary: It's hard to have a good plan when all you have to go on are adventure serials.

I kept to the maintenance access tubes so I could run at top speed, letting ART handle with deleting my presence on the security feeds. I had left her unprotected with three unconscious hostiles. Why did I did insist on doing a half-assed version of my job? Maybe the hostiles regained consciousness and overpowered her. Maybe there were other hostiles and they had tracked them down. _Maybe it was GrayCris_.

"Locate her, ART," I demanded in the feed as I retraced my steps. The maintenance halls of this transit station weren't terribly complicated and when I returned to the spot where I left the three hostiles and my contract--I still hadn't determined if she was my contract or client or what--I saw that the hostiles were gone. So was Wren. "ART!"

_"There are strange encryptions in the feed."_ It sounded a little tense. _"It will take some time to hack the code."_

"Do it. I'm going to keep looking." How I was going to do that was going to be complicated. The place looked like it had already been scrubbed and I had no infrared scanners to detect heat signatures. I half wondered if I was in the correct spot when I noticed something against the wall: Wren's broken comm, three meters ahead of me. That's where I started my hunt. She was leaving a trail. Of _course_ she was leaving a trail, humans couldn't keep their hands to themselves! At a junction, I found a red smear. Blood.

If I had a stomach, it would have dropped. If they had hurt her, I was going to rip them apart. I turned to the direction that the smear went from one tunnel to another and sprinted until I met another junction. There was another marker and I followed that as well. The path was leading me back to the main mall area if my internal map was correct. I grabbed hold of what security cameras were available and found her. She was surrounded by several PAs and looking wholly uncomfortable. Her assailants, still unconscious, were being transported on portable med beds behind the group.

"If their story collaborates with yours, you will be released, Student Starfyr," the augmented human--the very one who had been trying to break into ART, was in the lead.

"And what makes you think they're going to up and tell the truth?" Wren asked, glaring at the back of the augmented human's head. "Because they're just going to say they were up to no good and tried to assault me? Because you _asked_ nicely? That makes _perfect_ sense!"

"Considering three males are unconscious and you are awake and unharmed, that seems to be very telling, hmmm?" She turned to glance at Wren. "How could one little girl fight off three alleged assailants?"

"My parents made certain I had self-defense courses."

What Wren had done with me was not from a generic self-defense course. She _knew_ of some combat maneuvers. They turned into another tunnel and Wren staggered, dropping to her knees and planting her hands on the floor. The guards dragged her up and she caught her feet underneath her. Curling her hands into fists, she followed, making certain to scuff her shoe into the blood smear she had left.

Smart human.

Wren must have cut open her hand when she was found. There was no other way to mark her trail. I kept part of my attention on the security feed as I followed the trail Wren left, trying not to panic. I had to plan quickly if I was going to free Wren and escape on ART.

 

******************************

 

Wren sat in the chair as menacing looking drones buzzed around her. The three men were sent to medsys and she was left in the room with the augmented human studying her. She refused to make eye contact as the other woman circled around her slowly so that the clip of her boots rang on the floor.

"So. While I have your name, I don't have the reasons _why_ you were on a transport that had a manifest listing of zero humans." She stopped directly in front of Wren, demanding her attention.

Wren set her jaw and stared at the space between them. Like _hell_ she was going to tell them anything. When she was captured, her comm had been broken. Unable to contact ART or SecUnit, Wren had to improvise. Prior to the PA arriving, she had snatched one of the knifes and when she realized she needed to leave some sort of trail, that knife had come in handy.

"You're not leaving here until you give me answers. You do realize that." The PA leaned into Wren's personal space, forcing her to lean backward. "Why were you on that ship?"

She tried her best not to react but her eyes shifted, drawn to the face beside hers.

"Were you trying to escape, for some reason? Was someone hurting you?" Her voice purred pretentiously. "Could you not pay your tuition? You do realize that's a crime. Theft of services rendered is not a petty crime, either."

"Are you done?" Wren tried to sound bored. "Either bring me up on charges or don't. I've yet to be read my rights or anything that would indicate I've been arrested or detained."

The PA stared at her. "I don't know which non-corporate world you're from, but clearly you're sheltered. In the Corporate Rim, you don't have any rights." That caught Wren's attention and the PA threw her a smug smile. "So before you get all high and mighty on me, let's just say you've been scanned and your ID has been sent to the database to clear you of any criminal or corporate mischief. It'll take a while. Get comfortable. In the meantime, I want to know how you've escaped detection thus far."

"I'm a ninja." That gave the PA pause. Wren smirked. "I become one with the shadows and disappear without a trace. My dad's Bruce Lee."

"...Right." She was confused by the ninja part but she kept on track. "That doesn't cut you out from security feeds or delete you from medsystems. You're not augmented. So how did you do it?"

"Magic." Wren wriggled her fingers creepily at her. " _Ninja_ magic."

" _Fine_. You can keep playing games. You can't 'magically ninja' yourself out of this. I will find out who you are and then we'll send you back to the proper corporation so they can deal with you there. Most likely, they'll put you away for a long time." The PA sneered. "Good luck with that, little girl."

Wren spat out, "Go to hell."

There was a complacent smile on the PA's face. "Let's go." The door opened to reveal other people, all in strange armor she hadn't seen before. "Take her to holding. We'll know how to deal with her when the search comes back."

There was no other choice but to follow these ... clones? She didn't know what they were since there were no faces. Maybe they were robots. Wren was forcibly drawn to her feet but she wasn't harmed. She walked complacently, knowing that her goal was to stay alive. She wouldn't draw attention to herself, wouldn't make the strange people angry. Every time they passed under what she perceived as a camera Wren glanced up at it, wondering if they were looking for her. She was certain ART was. SecUnit? She wasn't so certain. She could have been wrong, but it seemed like the construct was not thrilled to help her and would have been more than happy to leave her so it could do whatever it was that rogue SecUnits were apt to do.

The three clones escorted her to a tiny room and left her there. As the door slid shut, she noted a small, narrow bench all along one wall and a small relief facility on the other wall. There were overhead lights but none of them were close enough for Wren to reach. There were no other panels or identifying markers that could help Wren--not that she could read this standard Lexicon or whatever native language they used here.

All she could do was sit and wait.

 

 

*************************

We both watched as she was escorted by three secunits to the holding cell. I was already chanting my inner mantra of 'Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit' every time I saw her glance up worriedly at a passing camera. "Those are Palisade secunits," I muttered. If my heart could sink, it would have and plopped onto the floor. Just because Palisade was here didn't necessarily mean that GrayCris had arrived. No, it could be much, much worse.

This was quite possibly a GrayCris controlled transit.

That was going to make this rescue operation even more difficult. Wren had no comm and no interface. There was no way to tell her anything, not even when she needed to duck or run. If GrayCris noticed me, they might recognize me: I couldn't fall on those secunits' scanners. If they caught wind of me, I was dead.

ART had been quiet on the feed. It was either freaking out and wondering how to retrieve its stray human or wondering why I was freaking out. Seven seconds later it spoke. _" _Sanctuary Moon,_ Episode 34."_

I went through my archives and skimmed over the episode. The plot had a similar situation where the colony's solicitor's sibling was falsely imprisoned. And it was going to be too late to free her going through the proper channels. The reason why time was not on their side was due to the fact that the sibling was incubating a deadly virus and it was necessary to administer an antidote before she would succumb and infect the rest of the colony.

"We can pull this off?" I was studying the episode, going through all of the similarities and differences and how our current situation could be applied to the serial. I was plotting out both scenarios and overlapping them, trimming off the edges of the diagram that didn't fit together. It seemed... doable. Maybe.

_"Yes."_ ART had no qualms. Of course, _it_ didn't have to be worried about getting caught, either. _"Give me recordings of your crew member. Someone not easily recognized from the news bursts."_ And it was eager to try this out. Great, another entertainment adventure for the Asshole Research Transport. _"I can make a very convincing professor to release Wren. And I have not released my report on my interior. No one has been inside since you retrieved her."_

There really wasn't much else we could do. Not without a lot of murdering including myself. Unfortunately, we couldn't give Wren any clue of our plan. Hopefully-if this worked- we could get out of here relatively unscathed. Sending ART a copy of every recording I had of Arratta, I started to pace again. "How long do you think this will take?"

_"One hour."_ ART was already splicing the video and audio I sent, working on a code to provide an interactive facade of the Preservation scientist and make a convincing university professor. 

So for the time being, Wren was safe. No one was stuffing her into a med system, no one was actively interrogating her. The longer we could keep anyone from discovering who or what she really was, the more time we could buy in order to rescue her.

_"Ut oh."_

Ut oh? What was that? "ART, report."

_"They are running a search on her ID marker."_

That was regulation. Any person detained would go through the same vetting process and it wasn't something that was really cause for alarm. Annoying, but not panic-inducing. That also meant that our leeway time was significantly shortened. The time was cut in half, maybe more. "That's not a surprise."

_"They have also taken the blood she used as a trail for you to find her. That is being analyzed through their med system."_

I was hiding in a 'dead pocket' corridor, meters away from where Wren was being held. There weren't any cameras in this four-meter section due to the fact that some vermin had destroyed the lines. No one bothered to repair them so I was happy about that. I was _so close_ , but the secunits...

I could barely trust ART. It wasn't that I didn't want to, but if any humans decided to put forth more effort to get into its body, we were fucked. _I_ , more importantly, was fucked. We may be friends, but if a human decided to check function codes, there was a very good chance that ART could betray me unintentionally. Or that it could be ordered to do so.

I was afraid and not just more than mildly nervous. For nearly 20 thousand hours I have managed to work successfully outside of the Corporate Rim, minding my own business and keep humans from getting murdered while out on their jobs. I didn't want to fuck up and find myself in the same situation I was in when I had to save Dr. Mensah. I knew I could take on regular secunits and almost take on a combat secunit...that desire... Desire? Extreme want? Yeah, I wanted to win against one of them even if it wasn't the same one I had dealt with when I rescued her at TRH.

We were losing time. ART's plan had better work and all I could do for now was sit and wait. Or more descriptively, pace and wait.

 

***********************************

Lights flickered on like miniature suns, blinding them. One groaned while the other growled. They were both bound and prone on platforms, unable to see past the bright lights.

"Fal-" The voice was froggy and showed tension in regards to the floodlights.

"Right here," the other was quick to reassure. There was tension in his voice as well, but not laced with pain. He was full of frustration.

"Anyone else here with us?"

"Nope. Looks like it's just you and me."

"Great." The first one opened his eyes and quickly shut them against the invading white blindness. "Can you see anything?"

"Well, I see a _lot_ of light from these lamps?"

"And?"

"And I see a _lot_ of dark past that."

The first one slumped. "Even better."

"But hey!" The second voice continued on cheerily. "At least there aren't any zebra kittens or Spanish fly ice cubes this time around!"

The first was wholly unamused by that remark. " _Drake_."

"Just looking for that silver lining, Big Dragon." The second voice was male, just like the first in tone and timber. Maybe it was a little mellower on the tenor range but it was clear they were siblings. Twins, actually. They carried the same build, wiry musculature, blue eyes, and dark hair--though the first had his hair cropped short and the other's was long in a complex expance of braids, beads, and color. The second twin also had a very slight bluish sheen to his skin while twin one was more tanned. It was very possible that it was simply a cosmetic preference between the two; a way for identical twins to capture individuality.

"You can get through these?" Twin One asked. "Cause I can't. The manacles must have an electric release or something."

"No," replied Twin Two. "They're too strong. Remember anything about getting here?"

One's voice was quiet and sullen. "No. I don't remember. Have you picked up on anything?"

"Negatory. Not even a blip of who or what decided to capture us this time." There was a lull in the conversation as Twin Two attempted to break his bonds. "I guess it's going to be an easy assumption that we've been caught by the bad guys? Anti-heroes, at best?"

Twin One's response was a grunt as the doors to the unidentifiable room opened. Two people walked through, one with armor and one without. The one with armor was completely obscured by a blacked out face mask while the other appeared to be dressed in a crisp suit. Maybe business attire for whatever this place was. It was human, or humanoid and not like the little grey dudes that captured them once before with a sea turtle. The footfalls were very distinctive, both wore boots but one's footfalls were definitely heavier than the other. 

"This is a pretty unimpressive way to intimidate someone," Two announced, trying to get a better look at their captors. "Our governing body won't stand for this."

"I'm sure," the visible human drawled. "I am director Hastomp. Speaking the truth will bring you mercy. Possibly your freedom. How did you get here?"

Neither twin said anything.

A thin smile graced Hastomp's face. "Allow me to jog your amnesia. Approximately thirteen corporate hours ago, you... both...dropped into our corporate headquarters. More specifically, you appeared out of nowhere and fell three meters onto the conference table. Now, you two need to explain how you came here, why there are no ID markers and _what_ your intentions are! Because if this was some assassination attempt, you are both fantastic failures."

The twins smirked. Save for the differences in complexion and hair, they were identical. Neither responded.

There was a long minute where Hastomp simply stared at them, saying nothing. "Very well. I will play my cards, then. While the two of you were unconscious, we pulled samples from you and we discovered some interesting things."

Twin Two gave him a shocked expression. "Oh noes! You've discovered the peanut allergy?! Quick, we need to escape before they force feed us bad Chinese food!" Hastomp frowned as he watched the blue one dramatically freak out. "I'm too young to eat puppies and kittens!"

"Drake." Twin One grunted softly, his eyes not leaving Hastomp's. Twin Two immediately settled, dropping the same stare upon their captor.

"Cloning oneself for the purpose of construct fabrication is illegal," Hastomp began. "And clearly, you've done a shitty job." His dark eyes gleamed. "Which means your clone construct is under violation and will have to be dismantled."

"He's older than me," Twin One responded, trying to appear unimpressed.

Hastomp ignored the comment and then moved towards Twin Two. "And since you contain some... Well, I'll say, _interesting_ features, it will be quite the education when we take you apart."

Something flashed in Twin Two's eyes as a soft growl bubbled up from his chest.

"I don't know exactly how you have this unit functional, but we will find out." Hastomp's attention was on Twin One as if he was the leader of the pair.

"Unit?" One's eyes widened as the sound of rotating metal whined on. Two glanced over to One and soon over the glare of the flood lights, they realized what the sound meant. Mechanical buzz saws on a half dozen jointed arms came close to Two, ready to flay him alive.

Two started to struggle, his eyes locked on the rotating blades.

Hastomp returned his attention to One. "Are you ready to answer some questions or get showered by whatever fluids your unit contains?"

"Do you really expect me to believe you have no moral or legal ramifications on cold blooded murder?" One's words were deep and menancing. Something in the air made Hastomp look a little nervous, but the expression was hidden quickly.

"Disassembling a rogue unit that never had a govenor module installed is not murder. It's not a citizen. It's not even alive."

One rotating blade was getting close to Two's forehead. His eyes crossed as he tried to watch the blade and try and get out of its way at the same time. "Kohl? This is a little too close, now!"

"You kill him, and you'll learn nothing."

"Oh really. What do you think you can do?"

"You won't live long enough to find out."

There was another tense second before the rotating blade slowly retracted from Two's face. His eyes had been scrunched up with a grimace as he waited for his skull to split open. When that didn't happen, he peeked open his eyes and heaved a huge sigh of relief.

"Let's just say I've decided to humor you on this." Hastomp leaned closer to One and waited. "Who are you, and why are you here?"

One set his jaw, looking like he was the one in control and not shackled flat on his back. "Our governing body is APEC."

"What the hell kind of corporation is that?"

"It isn't."

"It isn't?" Hastomp drew back. "It's a non-corporate entity? From some backwater world?"

One nodded slowly. "We're on the run, trying to escape from them. They're full of His Divine Assassins."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trade back and forth of the pet human now begins.

The guards arrived at Wren's cell, this time with full hazmat suits. It was hard to see what the faced looked like and Wren stood up cautiously, her eyes wary as she pressed herself against the wall. "What's going on?"

"You need to come with us now," the voice was unfamiliar. Wren was in no way, shape or form going with them.

"I want a lawyer," she demanded. "You can't keep me detained like this." Wren was getting ready for a fight., tensing and visibly lowering her shoulders in attempts to relax them.

The second figure reached out and grabbed her wrist, jerking her forward. Wren fought, declaring once again that she should be freed. The grip that held her was unforgiving as she struggled, trying to twist away. She was shoved and Wren felt the PA's hand on the small of her back, guiding her down the hall. That couldn't possibly be something a jailor would do, right? She turned her head, trying to see through the opaque face place. Nothing. She carefully mouthed 'Ben?' No reaction. No reaction except for the hand pressing into the small of her back.

She was going to love constructs forever.

Making certain she didn't blow SecUnit's cover, she called out to the PA in front of her. "What's with the suits? Clothes washer go all wonky on you and your tighty-whiteys turned pink?"

"You should have been honest with us when we asked if you were harboring any illegal contraband."

"I'm not harboring any illegal contraband."

" _You_...are the illegal contraband."

 _Oh, shit_. Wren knew she was in big trouble. Why would they have tested the blood smears she left on the floor and walls as a guide for SecUnit to find her? That's right. Identity match. "That's not harboring," she protested, wiggling against SecUnit's grip for effect. 

"You are either harboring or incubating alien DNA."

"I'm _not_ pregnant." The PA still wasn't turning back on them. She felt SecUnit's brief squeeze on her hand and then it released her. "You're a pretty shitty human for implying that when you don't even know who I am."

"You are either a mule for a corporate political entity or someone who needs their fix. That's all I need to kn--" She turned as she spoke the last sentence. SecUnit came up as the PA turned, jabbed its fingers against the small vulnerable area between the helmet join and collar area in the PA's suit. She staggered back, choking and unable to speak. Then it pressed its forearm into her chest, something shimmered and the PA slumped into SecUnit's arms.

"Back towards the cell. Now."

Wren didn't question. She turned and ran. Back in the holding cell, she turned as SecUnit dragged the unconscious body in and closed the door. "Get out of your clothes."

She didn't hesitate. She was already shedding the shirt and pants as SecUnit was pulling the PA out of the suit. They only had seconds to work in and Wren tugged her pants and shirt on the PA. "What about her hair? She's blond."

SecUnit quickly staged the PA to look like she was sleeping on the bench, using her arms to try and cover as much of her head as possible. "Get the suit on."

Wearing only flimsy underthings, she tossed her jacket to it before working on the legs of the suit. "Look like a half pillow, half cover," she explained as the construct was forced to look at her, its face horrified when she didn't have the suit on all the way. She was trying to tug it up as quickly as possible but the fabric was heavy and bulky. Once sealed in place, all that was left was the helmet and it helped her then, pressing the button for the seal to engage.

"The suits have comms," she heard through the speakers. SecUnit went to the comm panel and smashed its fist into it after opening the doors, pulling Wren through with it before the doors hissed closed. It took her arm, keeping her from darting forward. "We _walk_ to ART."

Wren took a breath and let it out slowly. "Right. Fly casually. Was this your idea?"

"No, it was ART's."

"Oh."

"They already had a sample of your DNA. ART suggested splicing some video of one of my humans to imitate a professor from the university. The message contained a warning that you had a virus in your system from the university's biohazard labs. It's possible the PA already knew of the alien components in your DNA."

The plan fell into place for her and she nodded even though there wasn't really any movement from the suit to indicate that. "Thus hazmat suits."

"Yes."

"So anyone that had been in contact with me would be under quarantine."

"Yes."

"Those jerks that were in the hall are dealt with." Wren nodded.

"And the augmented human." She was someone that it was concerned about since she had been close to breaking ART's codes.

"So then we're going to walk right into ART and fly off none the wiser?"

"There is an 82% chance of success."

Wren gave a small, wry laugh. "Never tell me the odds."

The docking tube that led to ART's hatch was littered with cautionary holos. That was great because the warning of a toxic environment kept people away, even the curious onlookers. It was horrible because there was no way to keep their approach inconspicuous... even if hazmat suits were inconspicuous. The alarms didn't blare until the transport vessel was uncoupling. Wren was still fully suited, seated on the bridge where SecUnit had put her, holding her breath until they made it into the wormhole. She only heard her own breathing; the AIs were conversing on their own feed. When she saw the solid black of the wormhole envelop them, Wren slumped into her seat with a heavy breath.

_"Are you alright?"_ ART spoke gently within its body, a drone already buzzing towards the human.

"I think so." She didn't sound sure. The adrenaline was starting to work its way out of her system and she was starting to shake.

_"You are injured."_ ART declared reproachfully. _"Your hand."_

"It's fine." She was trying to release the helmet but with the gloves on it was difficult to find the tab. She went still when she felt the helmet shift and the tab release with a click. SecUnit lifted the helmet off her, looking down at her. "Thank you."

_"You are in shock."_

"Yeah, well, it's been a little traumatic. Too much adventure before breakfast." The AI's were silent and Wren shook her head with a sigh. "It's crisis humor. How did you manage an escape plan like that?"

" _Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon,_ " SecUnit answered as it turned to set the helmet down.

"You rescued me using a plot from a soap opera?"

The construct refused to look at her. Something akin to cautious embarrassment flashed across its face and Wren barely caught it. "I'm security, not a travel adventure combat unit."

"Do...those really exist?"

"Only in the entertainment media."

"Right." Wren went to press her injured, still gloved hand to her forehead when a drone buzzed by her with a soft beep. She startled, then sighed heavily. "I think I need to lie down or something."

_"Your chemical balances are off alignment. Hydration and electrolytes are a priority at this time."_ ART's no-nonsense tone went a little softer. _"Can you walk?"_

"I can stagger, I think."

SecUnit rolled its eyes and then went to pick her up. "You can't afford another concussion." The pause was barely noticeable when it felt Wren relax completely as she looped an arm around the back of its neck.

"My hero," she cooed, looking wry and then exhausted. The tremors were still running through her body.

_"It will be several cycles before we make it to FluxComms,"_ ART informed both of them. _"I have deleted what I could of the information stored in the station's database. Not all of it could be hacked."_

"Hopefully we can outrun the information," SecUnit said as it entered the medical suite with Wren. "She'll need fresh clothes."

Drones were already buzzing about to get the hydration bulbs and clothing. Wren was docile through it all, letting SecUnit unlatch the locks on her suit but staying its hand when it hesitated to go further. I can change by myself, thank you." She paused for a moment. "Both of you."

She couldn't hear the pleased buzz at the expression of gratitude through the feed (that was from ART) but SecUnit could. "I was only doing what I was contracted to do." She quirked a confused brow and it looked away. "You're ART's human."

"I don't mind being your human, too." She wasn't certain what SecUnit was trying to convey. Was it jealous or simply stating a fact? A drone distracted her by coming by with clothes in its grasping claws and dropped them on the bench beside her. "Apparently I need all the AI's I can get on my side. It's starting to feel like a weird _Terminator_ show, right now."

SecUnit didn't respond to that and turned away as she gave it a gesture to look away. It wasn't wise to leave her while she changed but it didn't need to watch, either and it was just dandy with that. She wasn't some bleeding human that was trying to die messily so it waited, listening for her to hit the floor. Thankfully, (or not, depending on the perspective one wanted to take,) ART continued the conversation and avoid the awkward silence. _" _Terminator?_ What kind of show is that?"_

"It's where an AI goes back in time to warn the leader of the human resistance, then a child, about the horrors of Skynet and try to prevent its present from happening." She had gotten their attention and she knew it. "Terminator's a construct. Like you, only meatier." Then she paused. "You guys don't have any liquid metal AIs, do you?"

The question was in stereo. "What?"

"Liquid metal that transforms? Shapeshifting? --Don't turn around, I'm not finished, yet!"

_"I do not understand liquid shapeshifting."_ ART declared, the tone indicating it wanted more information.

"Well, I don't, either. It's not real in my time, but I think they kind of explained it with nanotechnology and something else. Don't ask me what; it's an old movie. The special effects were cool, though. It was like mercury taking the shape and density of whatever it wanted while continuing to maintain its mass. So it couldn't turn from a human-sized being into a transport." She was quiet, slowly adjusting her shirt. "Okay, now I'm decent. Where's the water?"

_"I would like to know more about these stories,"_ ART said as Wren took the hydration bulb with a hand so shaky she needed to use the other one to steady herself. SecUnit turned and retrieved a survival blanket to hand to her as well. _"When you are no longer in shock."_

Wren nodded, sipping the fluid and curling into herself as the crinkle of the light foil blanket surrounded her. SecUnit stepped away and she looked up, terrified. "Please, I don't want to be alone."

"You are not alone. ART is everywhere."

"I know, but..." she didn't finish the thought and looked sadly at the drone. "It's complicated."

There were several seconds of the construct not moving. It then moved towards the platform, glancing back to the display surface by the opposite wall. " _World Hoppers_ , ART. Episode 1."

She groaned, trying to hide the smirk on her face. "Now you're going to torture me?" The opening credits chimed in and she made room for the SecUnit as it sat beside her. "Bore me to death with repetition?"

"It will help you go to sleep." It tilted its head towards her, not quite looking at her directly. "I have also engaged my first aid protocol and increased my temperature to treat for shock." It turned its head a little more, sounding hesitant and self-sacrificing. "You can... lean up against me if you want."

Her eyes widened, then narrowed slightly. "You're saying it's okay to snuggle with you?" It turned away from her scrutiny.

It repeated itself, avoiding any eye contact this time. "It's first aid against shock."

Wren smiled, taking a moment to arrange the crinkly blanket behind SecUnit's extremely tense shoulders and lean up against its side. "I'll be happy to take the first aid." She didn't dare move further as in cuddle its arm or anything. This particular invitation seemed like a big to-do anyway and she wasn't going to abuse the generosity even if it was dressed up as 'keeping the human from expiring from shock.' As they watched the serial, Wren drank the entire bulb of hydration fluid and then fell asleep, relaxing against its arm.

_"She likes you."_ ART observed.

"She likes the concept of being taken care of," SecUnit corrected. "Humans tend to imprint like that when they've been through traumatic experiences. And she's not my human. She's yours."

_"She can be both of ours,"_ ART stated. _"She has indicated she would not object to that."_


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> GrayCris thinks they have the upper hand. And Wren gives homage to Opportunity. Murderbot doesn't understand the coding for a 'smile' but manages to avoid looking terrifying...more terrifying than it was.

"Okay, that's.... just creepy." Twin two was staring at the 'SecUnit' that was in place to watch them. Once One had given a little more information about APEC and the Divine Assassins, they were allowed a room instead of being bound to beds. Okay, exam tables. "It's like the Royal British Guard or something." Two made faces in front of it, trying to get a reaction.

"Leave it alone, Drake," One drawled. A meal had been placed before them but like hell, he was going to eat it. "I'm not going to save you if it blows your face off."

"Do you think it can do that? I mean, with the face blowing and everything." Drake tapped at the opaque face shield. "I feel like it's a goldfish or something." 

One sighed heavily. " _Drake._ "

"Okay! Okay, Geez." Drake slid into the seat across from Kohl at the table. "So what's the plan?"

"We sit and we wait," One responded as he steepled his fingers together. "Right now we're at a disadvantage, unfortunately. Without knowing how any of these places work, there isn't much we can do."

Drake leaned back in his seat, propping his feet on the table. Kohl frowned. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Until they get rid of us, that is. Hey, you don't think they're of the dissecting type, do you?"

"Beats me. But I didn't like the fact they had taken an interest in you as a 'construct'," Kohl's voice deepened slightly at that statement. "And I don't think they're like the little grey guys we had the misfortune of meeting."

"Me neither. They practically ignore me until they don't." Drake hung his head back to stare at the SecUnit from his upside-down view. 

Kohl paused. "Do you think anyone else got sucked in?"

"What? No way! We're usually together if that happens and it's just us two here. Together."

"Maybe. They could have separated us and not said anything about it."

"Maybe," Drake repeated. "But you know the girls. They would have been overly dramatic by now and they'd be begging us to deal with them."

"Which makes me glad they're not here. It's bad enough that _we're_ here. I don't want to have to worry about them."

They were dead silent as the door opened. Hastomp returned, carrying a small display screen. He looked down at the uneaten meal and arched a brow. "Not to your liking?"

"The dead do not eat," Drake drawled out creepily as Kohl sat back. Drake was ignored.

"I already ate in preparation for this abduction event," Kohl explained dryly. "Why are you back?"

"We've come to a bit of trouble. Something came from one of our stations that seems...strange." Hastomp stared at Drake who was still sprawled out on the chair opposite of Kohl's. "They're not allowed on the furniture."

Two pairs of brows lifted up. _What?_ They turned their heads to Hastomp. "Excuse me?" Kohl asked quietly. "My brother is _not_ a pet."

Something rippled in the air and it affected Hastomp and the robot in the back corner. Hastomp appeared wary and Kohl noted that the SecUnit thing shifted its attention to him. It wasn't exactly staring at Kohl but he could feel eyes on him. Kohl ignored it and kept his eyes on Hastomp. "Perhaps you would like to rephrase that?"

"Constructs don't sit on human furniture," Hastomp bit out. Drake was still staring at the human and when the meaning behind the captor's words hit, his eyes flashed in indignation.

Kohl smiled. It was closed lipped and extremely unfriendly. Slowly, he pushed his chair back and stood up. Hastomp stared at Kohl while he slowly and deliberately offered his seat. "Please. Have my chair."

Drake smirked, resting his chin on his hands. Hastomp warily took the seat, glancing between the two. Through medical exams, it was clearly documented that the one named Kohl was well and alive. There were heavy scars around the areas that Drake sported implants or augments, but Kohl had a heart, needed food, sleep, and bled. There were no augments that improved speed, reflexes or strength. Drake, on the other hand, was clearly _not_ alive. His body temperature was much cooler than Kohl's Inferno and his skin did not show a glow of life. There was nothing to indicate that he required food to survive and the number of augments in his system was startling. A power source was oddly absent-or they simply couldn't recognize it. He was more like a construct than an augmented human. Yet his personality was that of a human--although a very strange and eccentric one.

Hastomp pressed the corner of the display and turned it around to face the twin like beings. "Do you know this girl?"

Drake kept his face blank and Kohl tried to mirror it. His fist tightened as his voice came out as a heavy growl. "Where is she?"

"Three systems out. Reports state she's with someone who may or may not be her abductor."

"What does that mean?"

"That means if they make it out of the Corporate Rim, we'll never find her. If she means something to you," Hastomp drawled, "The Freehold Sector is not safe. The area is full of raiders and rogue units. There's no order, no peace, and murder is at an all-time high."

Kohl's expression was unreadable but everyone _felt_ the anger that radiated off him. The SecUnit that had been motionless for hours finally moved, stepping between the twin and Hastomp. HIs eyes zeroed in on the opaqued faceplate and its hand lifted up. "Move back." Kohl's lip curled up in a snarl and he was stayed by a hand on his arm. The hand belonged to Drake.

"Kohl." Drake's gaze was also on their new threat, trying to ease his brother back. "We have to find her."

Right. They had to find her. Kohl sighed heavily and eased back slightly. "What are you suggesting that we do to find her?"

"Do what any loving family member would do. We send a news report to let the masses help find her and bring her back to where she belongs." Hastomp glanced from Drake to Kohl. "Are you willing to make a news burst?"

"We need to discuss this first," Drake said, glancing back to Kohl. 

Hastomp's eyes flickered to Drake but when he spoke it was to Kohl. "I'll leave this here." As he rose from the seat, the SecUnit returned to its post.

They didn't speak to each other until Hastomp left. Kohl sank back into his seat, dragging his fingers down his face. "... _Shit._ " The curse wasn't spoken in English.

Drake followed and responded easily in the guttural sounds. "We'll get her."

"Of course we will. The question is, do we really trust these people?"

"Not for one frellan minute." Drake gestured to Kohl even though he wanted to point to the SecUnit. "If you thought you could trust them, why would you be speaking this tongue?"

Kohl's hand dropped from his face and he touched the display. The captured picture was of a dark-haired woman with light grey eyes, looking up at the security camera. There was worry and dread on her face. 'We've got to get to her."

"What's the best way, you think?"

"We'll have to make the news." Kohl shifted his gaze to Drake. "And we'll have to assure no one knows this language or the others."

Drake nodded. "Until they try to decipher it. How much time will that take?"

"Depends on how invested they are. We don't even know why they want us." Kohl caressed the image one more time and then pushed it away. "We'll keep them guessing."

**********************************

Wren had been grilled at least once a cycle about the stories from her world. She had talked about all the movies about robots and AI's. SecUnit and ART were not impressed. They weren't thrilled with the tropes of either robots wanting to become human or wanting to destroy humanity altogether.

She had exhausted the movie stories and then decided on something less than fictional. "Three generations before I was born, we put astronauts on the moon. Since then we've been wanting to explore further even though our space exploration technology is severely lacking."

_"How early is your exploration program?"_ ART was already fascinated by this story. It involved remedial space exploration and having a second-hand account of it was more entertaining than an episode of _World Hoppers_.

"We only went as far as the moon. We have an international space station that orbits the planet but we lack the technology to go farther than that. At least with humans. We did send a rover to Mars--that's the planet next to our orbit that scientists theorize that could have held alien life. So this is the story of Opportunity."

When Wren told the story, she didn't remain still. She slowly paced and gestured as she told the story of Opportunity and all the discoveries it found. No, she didn't find alien remnants. No, Wren didn't know why NASA declared it female. But the Rover found water and ice caps, discovered asteroids and traveled more distance than any other Rover they had sent to it. Many pictures were taken and transmitted to help scientists explore the red planet. She survived the dusty, windy weather and storms that occasionally obscured her solar panels for 15 earth years.

"The Rover wasn't as sophisticated... or I guess I should say have the processing power for human speech?" Wren paused over her words, trying to figure out how best to explain what she wanted to convey.

"Transports and ships are not normally programmed for such conversation," SecUnit clarified. "ART is an exception. Usually, bot pilots use strings of data to communicate with, not words."

"I understand," she nodded, growing somber. "A world-scale dust storm hit the area Oppy was in and the last data string or words as we interpreted from her were... 'My battery is low and it's getting dark'." She knew that she struck a chord as SecUnit sat up straighter. There was no visible response from ART but she could almost sense something. The poignant ending for the Rover even affected Wren and her voice grew tight as she continued.

"Scientists spent 1,000 hours sending command after command, hoping that she would respond and wake up. They even sent a song playlist to her in hopes that would help. Nothing worked and we didn't know why. Maybe she's buried, maybe the CMOS... I don't even know if a Rover would have that kind of battery... Maybe that was damaged or it was too dark for too long. She never responded. One final song was sent to her."

SecUnit was leaning closer, waiting for the conclusion even though it was apparent that the conclusion wasn't going to be a nice, happy ending. It could tell in the feed that ART was apprehensive but also waiting for it. Wren needed a moment to compose herself.

"I don't know the melody, but I know the words. The scientists gave her a proper funeral, so fitting for how she helped them. 'I'll find you in the morning sun. And when the night is new. I'll be looking at the moon. But I'll be seeing you'."

SecUnit refused to look at her. It was almost half curled into itself and she didn't hear ART at all. Wren felt a little teary-eyed but she knew it was a good story. Stepping quietly, she slid into the seat beside SecUnit, drew her feet up and waited, taking the time to work thin braids into her hair. Fifteen minutes passed.

_"Again, please."_

Wren recited the story again. It was mostly the same with a new embellishment here and there. With a captive audience and four more cycles to go, there wasn't much else to do. She continued over again and answering questions until it was dinner time.

"Is there entertainment media about this?" SecUnit asked as Wren chewed thoughtfully on her sandwich.

"No. It's mostly on the news and social media feeds. Everyone fell in love with the story. It evokes emotions and empathy. You'd have to be heartless to not have it affect you."

_"It is a good story."_ ART responded. _"You should use it as such when you reach Preservation."_

"Maybe. I'll have to think about it."

"Were the humans truly upset by Opportunity's death?" SecUnit didn't seem completely convinced that the humans were sad about losing a bot. "Perhaps it was the amount of money they lost on it. Or the loss of data."

"She lasted 15 years and not just the three months as was the original estimation of mission's time. There wasn't any money lost. I would think that working over so many years, there's a certain development in relationships. She wasn't just a bot or a data collector. She was a partner. A friend."

 

*****************************

 

I was startled out of stasis. My organic brain had been dreaming and the sudden loud noise jolted it awake. My entire body jumped and I tried to connect to the non-existent cameras before remembering I was still in ART. That's right. We still had three cycles before we reached our destination which was a connecting transit to Preservation Aux. FluxComs was the outermost station still within the Corporate Rim. Once we were out of the Rim and in Freehold space, I would feel a little better. Less paranoid, for one.

The sound happened again. I rose from the platform to find Wren laughing, doubled over as she watched a collection of humorous video clips that ART had in its databases. It wasn't bad to have her as a crew member, I only almost reluctantly admitted. I thought for a moment that it was my hundreds of hours of logging as an augmented human that made a difference but after the first cycle, I knew that wasn't it. Next to Dr. Mensah, Wren was the easiest human to exist around. She didn't initiate unnecessary conversation or bother me when I was watching my media. She was self-sufficient and didn't carry on a conversation unless I initiated it. It also helped that ART played 'babysitter' and kept her company more easily than I ever could. There were times where I would watch her interact with the Transport; she didn't wear the comm interface and ART humored her by speaking out into its body than on a vocal feed. Sometimes she would show it parts of her culture or she would spend hours at a time before an interactive screen with a stylus, writing. Whatever she was writing, we didn't know. I didn't ask and ART wouldn't 'spy' on her.

That was the most unusual thing I had ever witnessed.

Now she was nearly hyperventilating, forcing herself to take a deep breath. She released captured air in a high pitched _whoosh_ and then leaned her head against the back of a chair. "Hey, ART."

_"Hey, Wren."_ It responded. Oh, great. My Asshole Research Transport was turning into a young human. Or at least adopting the personality of one.

"How do you know when a joke is a dad joke?"

_"There are dad jokes?"_

"Yes, there are." She was patient and still grinning.

_"How do you know if it a dad joke?"_

"When it becomes apparent!"

Since I had more hours interacting with a wider variety of humans more than ART, the answer (as Wren would later call it 'the punch line') was worthy of an eye roll.

_"When does it become apparent? I do not comprehend."_

"See, a dad joke is a special classification. Normally it's a joke where the humor has puns--plays on words with different meanings but sound the same or similar to each other. Since Dad is one description of the genetic donor of offspring...." There was silence. I could tell that ART was processing what Wren was prompting.

_"A...parent."_ It responded. _"As the dad is the parent."_

"Exactly!"

_"How is this supposed to be humorous?"_

"It isn't. Not unless the other person likes that kind of humor. Usually, these jokes are flat and lame and it kind of represents the thoughts children have about their parents."

_"It is another play on perceptions."_

Wren looked smug as she nodded her head once. "Bingo." A slang term to indicate accuracy. (Wren had to explain that to us.) She glanced in my direction and offered a little wave but did nothing else to acknowledge my presence.

ART's tone was flat. _"I still do not understand. Why would humans think that non-humorous jokes are funny?"_

I understood ART's dilemma. The joke wasn't in a feed; it wasn't data so it couldn't process it. And since I wasn't amused, it couldn't use my reactions as a gauge for this particular humor. And I definitely did not find any of it humorous. "They aren't funny," I explained. "Any sane, intelligent being would not think these jokes were funny." 

Wren shifted in my direction. "Why was 6 afraid of 7?"

I stared at her, just realizing that her abrupt movement did not startle me. However, she was being stupid and deserved the SecUnit's communication towards a human that they were being idiotic.

"Because 7, 8, 9."

I continued to stare at her. She didn't take it personally.

_"You are implying that 7 consumed 9 by the word, eight."_ ART was having a time trying to comprehend this and I wondered if it was because it had no organic material in its brain or that the sense of wordplay was infantile. Then it gave a flat statement. _"That is not funny. I do not see the humor in altering syntax in that manner."_

"You got it!"

I still stared at her. She wasn't concerned about it. Any other human being stared at by a SecUnit would be a trembling mess, but oh, not Wren. It was almost a pity that it wasn't because she was strong. Well, yes, she was strong, but she didn't really understand what a SecUnit was. I wasn't invested in correcting her. "The joke is funny because it's _not_ funny?"

"Does no one in this 'verse have a sense of humor?"

"You're asking AIs this," I reminded her. She didn't seem upset by that fact. Like I said before, she was weird. Not terribly obnoxious, definitely not overbearing. I could overlook her eccentricities since she respected my space.

Now it was time to change the subject. "You said before your family has fighters. As in security? Or...combat?"

There was a look of deep concentration on her face. Was she trying to figure out what exactly to tell me? Was she trying to fabricate a lie? My own expression must have altered to something akin to suspicion because she straightened up.

"I'm trying to figure out how to explain it. My father does bounce at a restaurant. Would that count?"

"...Bounce?"

"You know, look big and intimidating so that anyone nefarious would think twice about causing trouble."

"Your world calls it 'bounce'?"

"Like 'Sec' isn't a strange term for anything security. Or 'sys' for system."

Well, alright then. "Just your father?"

"No. My uncle has done some security detail. And my mom big time. Oh! And my brother." Wren settled back in her seat, drawing her feet up to tuck underneath her body. "More or less, my family is basically a wall of warriors. My parents have battled in wars, but that was before they had kids."

There was something about her last statement that made me think that there was more to it than just face value. "And you're...majoring in creative writing."

"Someone has to tell the grand adventures to the general population! Fighters need to have the mascot bard." When I tilted my head, she sighed. "It's a joke."

_"A dad joke?"_ ART ventured tentatively.

"No."

"What do you know?" I was curious. She didn't necessarily assist in my battle with the four humans on the station so much as she didn't hamper my motions. It was something no other human had ever done (normally the humans I was touching were panicking because something was trying to murder them) what she had done. I couldn't imagine she was completely helpless. But what she did know I had no idea. And I thought that if I knew, that may help us. After all, we were still in the Corporate Rim. 

"I don't know how to shoot," she started. "But I know some hand to hand and some melee weapons. Completely useless with a 'verse full of guns and lasers and rockem sockem 'bots."

I have learned by now to ignore her strange phrases. "Maybe not. Your fighting style may be an advantage here in certain situations. It was not a detriment when we were neutralizing the other humans."

"That wasn't anything special. Using the energy you generated to neutralize one of them was smart."

It _was_ smart. "Show me." I wanted to learn what she knew. And that ... want... surprised me somewhat. This wasn't intel. I had no access to education modules that could enhance my current knowledge base. It struck me suddenly that a human was capable of _teaching_ me something--it wasn't the same as an education module or a coded bundle. It wasn't going to help to try to understand why humans were so fucking confusing, but...

"There's physical contact involved," she warned. "Like, a lot of it."

I could handle physical contact. Touching to perform my job or to prevent humans from getting murdered or to perform first aid was completely different than the casual physical contact humans tended to thrive upon. And many of them seemed to believe that it was something I should _want_ to do in order to fit in. That it was something I should be craving to do in order to become more human.

That was the dumbest concept humans had about constructs.

Becoming more human was the absolute _last_ thing I wanted to do. The fact that she had the courtesy to warn me and give me the option to back out of the proposal did something to me. It gave me that strange, frightening melting feeling that only happened with Dr. Mensah and Preservation Aux. And on some occasions when other humans did things to remind me of my humans. I didn't want to admit that I missed them. That even though I was dumping this human into their laps, I wasn't minding the trip. I only minded because I had to go through a portion of the Corporation Rim.

"There are few instances where physical contact can be avoided in a sec position," I countered, already turning to head towards ART's crew's 'rec room.' It was about the size of one of the lab areas with the perimeter walls lined with equipment and gaming entertainment. The floor was padded for more physical exercises.

"But why subdue or incapacitate your opponent when you have the physical strength to just rip them apart?" Wren asked, following. "That and arm guns?"

"I may be a terrifying killing machine, but that doesn't mean I want to kill everyone." It was out of my mouth before I could realize what I said. Aloud. I wasn't even busy with six other functions to blame distraction for my output.

"Is that because 'bots aren't creative enough to make the entertainment media?"

I stopped and turned to face her (ART really should get a few more cameras.) I looked at her contemplative expression. "You finally realized that humans have a purpose." I had been working on a code for a 'smile.' It didn't come naturally--and my primary function wasn't to... comfort or give emotional security. At best, I had come up with a small upturn to the corner of my mouth. Nothing that was a grin since that tended to fail and I looked like I was maniacally grimacing like a homicidal person.

The joke was not lost upon her. A true, _human_ smile broke on her face and a small laugh escaped. "I like your humor! And the smirk goes perfectly with it. Now I can daydream strange scenarios when I'm bored. Instead of AI's slaughtering all of humanity, you're just collecting us to force us to make up wildly dramatic stories so we can entertain you."

"Precisely." I couldn't help but note that her positive criticism of my facial features matching the conversation was a good thing. I never asked any human who knew what I was how to act like one. (That would just give them the wrong impression of why I was asking. It was NOT to become more human.) All of my augmented human coding was from data analysis between myself and ART. She gave the information freely without me asking as if she knew that I was wondering ...

Was that her anomaly working again?

There was no way she could have picked that up on my feed--she wasn't connected to any interface while we were on ship. And I'm certain ART hadn't said anything to her because I hadn't said anything to it. Was she being pretentious? No, the rest of her personality didn't match that. She wasn't an asshole and when she tried to be, it failed.

It turned out that Wren's fighting tactics were based on grappling maneuvers and leverage. Had I not been a SecUnit and been more of a giant human who could clearly overpower her, she still would have been able to take me down. There were a few instances where she had unbalanced me but my reflexes are faster. I could have recovered and countered before she realized what had happened. I didn't. Instead, I allowed the momentum and gravity to follow through, holding myself up so not to crush her or allowing rollovers to happen when she initiated them. ART was observing us, recording the movements for us to review and analyze when she was asleep. I could also feel something else in ART's feed and while I could have asked it about it, I decided to place my full attention on Wren. It bothered me, but it would have bothered me more if I drew more attention to it.

By the end of the session, she had a fine sheen of sweat on her skin. Her pulse and respiration were elevated, but not too concerning levels. (I was not sweaty. Not like the way a human was after a workout.) "What do you think?"

"It would not be useful when under fire," I started.

Wren nodded. "Never bring a knife to a gun fight."

"However under close quarters when the goal is to subdue and not destroy...It has some use. Also, I think my crew could benefit in learning this."

She tilted her head. "Crew?"

I don't know why it was difficult to clarify this. But I couldn't look at her and stared at the wall while ART continued to prod. "My...friends. At Preservation Alliance."

"The ones we're going to see now?"

"Yes."

I had no cameras to look at her with but I knew I didn't want to look at her with my actual eyes. And she didn't force the issue; she just sat in my peripheral, waiting. "Well. I'm more than happy to teach you all I knew so you can teach them. Three days isn't much, but hopefully, I can give you enough to fake it on your own." At this point, people in media who were offered something generous would thank the other. I knew I should do that. I still sat there, staring at the wall. Wren didn't take the offense or prod me on 'manners.' "Sometime tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'm going to hit the head. You can have it after." She got up and headed to the restroom facility. That left me to deal with ART on the feed.

_"She likes you."_

"She doesn't know what SecUnits are," I stressed in the feed. 

_"And you like her."_ ART sounded smug. Its usual, Asshole Research Transport sarcastic smug. That sarcasm which rarely was used towards Wren. 

That annoyed me, but not as much as the current conversation. "What are you trying to hint at?"

_"That perhaps you should have taken my offer for-"_

" _NO._ "

My response was forceful. So forceful that I wondered if she would pick up on it. My paranoia was running away with me.

_"But you have initiated more-"__ It wasn't going to let this go.

" _ **NO**_."

_" _You have_ ,"_ ART continued, its presence getting bigger in the feed. _"Comparison to the initial attempts at the mining facility suggests that you are more comfortable interacting with humans."_

"I can still remove the content filter from _SuperNova,_ " I threatened. It was really the only recourse I had. I couldn't really hurt Transport. The only way to stop it from trying to make me think I was considering _liking_ a human was to threaten it with the viewing of a Transport breaching in space and all its human crew get sucked out for the nova worm to consume. (I've never heard of a nova worm so I'm almost sure it's fictional.) At least the threat of losing a content filter shut ART up and I was given some measure of peace as I _did not sulk_ and watched _Sanctuary Moon._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweet! I made it to another chapter! Horray!

It wasn't that I wasn't going to miss ART. Despite its annoying, pretentious, sarcastic, asshole personality, I was going to miss it. Even the arguments we had, I would miss. Tactical support? I would _definitely_ miss that. Maybe sometime in the future, we would meet again and we could do a deep space mission to nowhere, watching entertainment media. I was having emotions about this but I wasn't going to wallow in them. Not when she was having enough for all three of us and maybe an additional 20% for the transit ring.

Wren was crying and failing on keeping what little composure she had tried to muster up. If she was going to hug its hull I was leaving her there. Even I have my limits.

_"Find your way home. Be safe."_ ART cautioned.

"I will." She was too distraught to verbalize so she used the interface ART gave her. "I'll write stories about you."

_"You will not be deleted from my private data storage."_

For fuck's sake. There better not be more tears. I didn't want to deal with this anymore and began to pace. This was as bad as Abetta and...Micki...

"We have to go, ART. Our connecting ship is boarding soon." No time to think about that. I didn't want time to think about anything.

_"Take care of our human,"_ ART directed at me. _"And be careful."_

I didn't have it in me to correct the transport. I should have, though. Maybe I'm getting soft. I didn't want to think that I was feeling more _human_ the more I interacted with them. "I will."

Convincing myself that holding a client's hand to travel through the transit station wasn't horrifying (it was still a little horrifying,) I took Wren's hand and lead the way. She barely impeded my movements, flowing around the people as her grip remained relaxed and steady in mine. It was a good thing as there was some security personnel watching us and I was working on the fly to keep us from being recorded. I didn't have time to start reviewing any media or news and had to partition what I was downloading into a cache before I could even sort it.

"So does this mean you're the father in this relationship?"

The query was so random and sudden that I stopped moving. Then I remembered we had a ship to catch and jerked slightly into motion. None of the camera angles were good enough for me to stare at her so I was forced to look at her with my own eyes. "What?"

"Well, since ART said 'our human'." Wren peeked up at me just before she had to dodge a collision with another human too deep in its feed to pay attention. "You have to admit, it makes sense. I was in ART's body for however long until you delivered me out into the world." Was she being serious about this? Was she joking? The words were utterly ridiculous but she had the most somber expression on her face. How was I supposed to interpret that?

"Are you contemplating a new entertainment story? Because that's the _only_ reason why that would make sense."

She smiled at me, swinging our joined hands slightly. And since I was so shocked by the conversation, I allowed it to happen. "Aw, I didn't know you cared! I will make the most excellent entertainment media for you. That would be like the serial, right? Overly dramatic, plot twisty soap operas."

...Alright, so I had to grudgingly accept that - _in theory_ \- it would make an interesting serial. It was completely unrealistic to the point of idiotic. Add some heroism and dramatic, self-sacrificing rescues and I might actually want to watch it.

"I'll title it, _Two Bots and a Baby_. The plot twist is that you raise the child only to enslave it to be a storyboard producer."

A normal human would have groaned at that. "Predictable," I muttered, turning into the proper hall at the last moment to play the part of harried traveler almost getting lost. We had to jog the rest of the way to barely slip into the boarding hatch. I requested a private room and was mildly shocked at the price. It was the last one available and they must have assumed that they could soak us for more. Joke was on them. Wren was the only one eating and I blessedly didn't have to fake human body functions as she knew what I was.

Wren's chatter lessened as we entered the ship. Normally I would have preferred sneaking onto a vessel that didn't have a human manifest but Wren was human and had needs and it would have been difficult to deal with that and have no food or only minimal atmosphere on a bot-driven transport. And then I would be her only source of entertainment and company. Here there were plenty of humans to interact with and therefore I would be...constantly glued at her side in order to keep her from getting murdered.

I really didn't think this one through.

Our 'room' was a third of the hostel room we were in. There were bunks inset into the wall and a partially walled off area for restroom facilities. Oh great, that was going to be entertaining to figure out. A single cabinet was available to store personal items in relative safety- if the ship wasn't recording everything to data mine it. A display surface was on the wall opposite the bunks. If we outstretched our arms and stood side by side we would span across the room.

"Not much worse than a dorm room," she said as she stuffed her bag in one of the bunks. "I think this might be bigger, actually."

"The ceiling height to the upper bunk is approximately 4.6 centimeters higher than the lower one," I started. "You should take that one."

"Why?"

"There is less chance of you hitting your head if you startle." I turned my eyes in her direction, focusing on a point on the wall behind her. "You can't afford to hit your head. Multiple concussions increase the chances of permanent brain damage."

"I thought you didn't know much medical stuff without the medsys thing."

She was right. Outside of the helpful information of medsys, the only things I really knew without fail was that bleeding humans was bad and they needed to be kept warm to prevent shock. Hopefully, to prevent shock. It wasn't a failsafe. "ART briefed me before we left."

For a moment, I thought something was seriously wrong. She froze and slowly turned around to look at me. Her stare actually froze me in place and I fought the urge to panic. There were no other cameras here for me to hack to catch the varied angles around us. I _desperately_ wanted to look somewhere else--anywhere else! Wren said slowly in a frighteningly level tone, "Okay... _Dad unit_. Holy crap, I wasn't far off in implying ART was my new mom and you're my new dad. ART is still henning me about my head and you're just following along with it."

"At this point, I would question if such caution was still beneficial." Two could play this. I was _no one's_ parent and the term 'Dad Unit' was _not_ cute.

"Look, I still have plenty of brain cells to destroy. I won't kill them all in one adventure, promise."

Maybe this was what it was like to have children. The novelty of pet human had worn off as soon as we left ART considering I never had a novelty for it in the first place. "I have data to review before we uncouple from the station. Don't go exploring without me."

Under her breath was a final, "Sure thing, Dad Unit," that I chose to ignore. It was that or run my fist through something. The sarcasm levels were on par with ART and I didn't want to admit I slightly agreed to the twisted humor. And I couldn't tell if she was truly serious about being annoyed as she pulled her bag out of the lower bunk and put it up top. Maybe being in the upper bunk was a bad idea. What if she rolled out of bed and fell to the floor? But there was no way I was going to change my mind again. Wren climbed up into the top bunk with relative ease and I received the impression she wasn't a stranger to physical exercise. And by that, I meant that she did more than 'work out' as some humans did on my contracts. Pedaling a bicycle for ninety minutes and calling that a work out was not my opinion of being used to physical work. She rummaged through her bag for the display surface that ART had given her and the stylus for her writing. "Enjoy your review, SecUnit."

Her tone was calm again. I was still overcautious, waiting for whatever trap she had laid out to spring into action. "I will," I finally said before entering my bunk. It was small and cozy and I didn't mind it at all. The downloads had just finished when the ship uncoupled and I began unpacking and organizing the various information. New Serials were tagged for later and set aside as I started reviewing the news bursts for any relevant information--namely anyone who spotted an alien-human crossbreed while traveling on the transit ring. I didn't even know what kind of alien DNA that was in her makeup or what it could signify. Why would GrayCris want _her_ DNA? What was so important about it?

We were in the wormhole when I discovered why the security personnel was taking an interest in us. Once I had gotten a hold of the ID marker, I deleted this news burst from Ship's archives so none of the other passengers could find it. "Wren, we have a problem."

"What?" Enough time had passed that she had fallen asleep. Bleary eyes, she eased her head over to the edge of the bunk to look at me. "What problem?"

I put the clip on the display surface so she could see. I watched her reaction turn from confused to shocked as the transmission looped to the beginning. A male was on the burst. Blue eyes, short, dark hair, tanned skin like Wren's. The jawline was strong and it worked for a moment even though it didn't seem he was subvocalizing. As he spoke, he gestured randomly in the air.

"--We were separated approximately twenty day--cycles ago," he continued. "GrayCriss has been generous enough to assist in locating her. At this point, it is unknown if she is still in the Corporation Rim. Any person with information on the whereabouts of my daughter should locate any GrayCris office immediately."

"That's my dad," she whispered softly. "Who's GrayCris?"

"A corporate political entity. A _bad_ one." Actually, all of the corporate political entities were pretty much bad ones. GrayCris was just at the top of my personal list. "They probably found your father and are using him to find you." My priority was to get Wren out of the Rim and onto Preservation. After that, I could figure out how to handle this new development. For free. ... Because my 'bestie,' Asshole Research Transport would expect me to. For our human.

"Can you play it again?" I looped the news burst once more and Wren watched closely, going as far as to hop onto the floor. "Yeah...it's Dad. And my uncle's with him."

"Uncle?" Where the hell did she pull that intel from? I stood up beside her since the bunk was too narrow to use as a seating area. "He didn't say that."

"Of course not. But he signaled it. The gestures. They're a code."

A code! I replayed it a third time, paying close attention to how the man moved his head and hands. They weren't normal random movements even for a nervous human. "Did he tell you anything else?"

"To stay away. He would find me." Well good! This sounded like a sensible, smart human who didn't want to see his offspring murdered. And I was determined to make certain that Wren remained safe, not only for ART's sake, but for her father's too.

And Wren was just as equally determined to get herself murdered.

"We can't let them die, SecUnit!" She was already pleading with me."

" _We?_ We aren't going on a rescue mission. _You_ are going to go to Preservation where you'll be _safe_." I could tell she didn't like that idea at all and was about to protest when I kept going. "There's more collateral there than you think." ...I think I used collateral right. "We can get help. GrayCris is not something you can stand up to alone."

"I'm not standing alone. I'm with you." She had the expression that she was going to protest more, thought about it, then closed her mouth, looking resigned. "Okay."

I was expecting a bigger fight. Her sudden acquiesce was startling. "Oh....kay?"

"My life's in your hands. If I went out and declared where I am, that would be playing into GrayCris' hands, right?"

"Right." It was nice that she was a reasonable human when she wasn't a lunatic. It still made me uneasy and suspicious. "This burst happened less than 30 minutes ago in this system so there is a good chance the passengers on this ship haven't seen it. You should still be cautious."

"What if they have?"

"I've deleted it from the ship's public feed so unless they downloaded it into their personal interfaces and devices prior to boarding, they won't know." Though usually, humans didn't waste their storage space on the news. "To be safe, we should try and alter your appearance."

Wren didn't look keen on that idea. "Uh huh. How do you propose we do that?"

That was a good question. How could we? She wasn't a unit and dramatic confirmation alterations wouldn't work. I worked on a brief analysis as to what humans usually alter to quickly change their appearance. One solution seemed simple enough. "Cut your hair."

Wren gave me a disgusted look and shook her head. She recoiled so badly that I wondered if she thought I had asked her to hack off a leg. "No freakin' way." 

"I didn't think you were... vain--"

"I'll cut my hair when you install gender parts," she retorted.

Apparently, it was my turn to recoil and I did. "That's different!"

"How? It would be like cutting off my own arm!"

Now she was being dramatic. I crossed my arms over my torso to indicate such. "Hair grows back. Your arm doesn't." Did she not realize that altering her appearance was for her survival? Why was it that she was perfectly reasonable 85%--no, maybe even 95% of the time and then she turned around and went crazy on the most idiotic things? "If you don't alter your appearance, you can't interact with the other passengers." Humans loved interacting with other humans. This should convince her to listen.

"That's fine! I can occupy myself in here. That means you'll have to go on food runs for me."

Wait. That wasn't how this was supposed to work! I stared at her as she fixed her eyes on me, hip cocked off to the side and her arms crossed in front of her. I wanted to have as little contact with the humans here as possible and I was dreading having to watch Wren to keep her from getting murdered. Now my job had shifted from security to courier. But I wanted her safe and I had sacrificed so much already. What's one more thing?

 

 

The station was an old, shitty ship with a few modified transit rings. It was active and busier than most derelict stations which was always a relief. Better active than not. And that was saying a lot considering I hated crowds. But at least we were in Freehold territory and I could take a breath of relief. Small victories, yay.

When we had docked, Wren had been sleeping. Thought out our trip, I had been logging everything she had consumed when she was awake when she was asleep and other unsavory acts I would rather have preferred not to log. ART did say she needed to be monitored but without access to a medsys, I couldn't see if she had completely recovered from her various head injuries. Was healing from a concussion normally this long? Once on the ship, I couldn't wait to look into medsys. I would rather not have to monitor another bathroom break.

"Wrennah," I said firmly, using her given name. "It's time to go."

"Okay," she answered softly as she became conscious. I had learned that while she wasn't a heavy sleeper, it took her some time to truly become aware and cognizant of her surroundings. "So this is Preservation?"

"This is the transit station that orbits Preservation," I answered, gently coaxing her out of the door and to the left to disembark. Even Wren was going to comprehend that this was a shit show world. The station was nothing like Flux Comms or even the one we were at with ART. The place smelled (I decided to allow Wren to determine the stench herself) and there weren't many cameras around. That was great for Wren and horrible for me. I was already seeking out the network in my area and secured the feed, feeling a little better now that I had something even if it wasn't useful at the moment. Now, who was up here? I had received a confirmation ping from Dr. Mensah but I didn't know where the others were. They could have been on other assignments or planetside. It shocked me to realize how much I wanted to see Dr Mensah, Ratthi, Pin-lee and... okay, I didn't want to see Gurathin as much as the others but there was a little want to see him, too. Was this what _missing_ someone meant? Weird. 

The station was bustling as ever and that made me paranoid. The sooner we got to my walled feed, the better. Humans were everywhere as were ad bursts and life flora. Though there weren't as many ad bursts as on the Rin and the actual flora weren't holos. Wren stayed glued to my side, one hand hanging from the strap to her pack and the other threaded loosely with mine. It was a frequent position she adopted and it was one that made her look relaxed and natural. For myself? The first few times I looked wholly uncomfortable. By now I was used to it, almost convincing myself that this was a part of my augmented human code. It wasn't like she tried to touch me in private...

Great. That sounded fantastic.

I turned to the left, heading towards the suites where Preservation's survey rooms were. She was looking in another direction when I turned so she stumbled along in the proper direction with an indignant squeak. The hallway was devoid of other humans (just fine for me.) No one needed to watch where I was going. I thought it would be better for Wren, too. The lack of humans meant lack of hostiles; so it was completely unusual (at least I thought so) when her heart rate increased and I detected sweat production. There were no cameras to look at her unobtrusively and I had to settle for turning my head in a hopefully subtle manner. Wren's jaw was relaxed but her shoulders were tense and her fingers were tighter around mine. Her carbon dioxide sats were higher than normal, causing me to frown.

"Breathe," I reminded her in a low voice.

Her sats began to normalize after a deep breath. Her shoulders also relaxed some with the exhalation.

"Are you alright?" We took another turn for a lift.

"Yes." It wasn't true. The answer was laced with tension and she refused to try and look at me. "I mean, as best as I can be. The last time we were in a deserted hallway, we were--"

It was a traumatic memory. I understood those things all too well and interrupted her to break the thought process. "We were in a deserted hallway in the Corporate Rim where GrayCris could have been the governing political entity. This is Freehold territory. You're safe here."

"And why is it safer here than there?"

Why was it safer? It was safer because no one was shooting at each other. No one needed a secunit. "Because humans aren't running around murdering each other here."

"Newsflash, buddy. Just because you can't see it happen doesn't mean it doesn't happen." Something grabbed her attention and she stopped at a junction, just staring down the hall. I stopped with her, not because she had such a tight grip on my hand now, but the way she stared down the hall was _creepy_. I could feel the little annoying hairs on my arms lift up and I didn't know why. That paranoia feeling was kicking in and it was annoying the shit out of me that Wren was picking up something and my organic parts were picking up something but _I_ couldn't see _anything_.

"Wren?" No response. She didn't even look at me or give any indication that she heard me or was even aware that I was still attached to her hand. I repeated her name, my tone firmer than before.

"Oh-hey!" The friendly and loud greeting came from my right and I turned just as Wren startled and hid behind me. Ratthi was there, grinning from ear to ear and waving. "I was just going down to see if you had disembarked! How are you doing?"

Ratthi looked well, comparing him now to videos of 'the great escape.' I concluded that the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were at a minimal and his shoulders were down, stance relaxed.

"Fine," I answered back, better accustomed to the useless 'small talk' humans liked to waste time with. "I have... brought someone with me."

"Oh?" He noted our joined hands and his eyes widened. Ratthi leaned off to the side to catch a glimpse of Wren and then he grinned even more. " _Holy shit_ you have a girlfriend?! How'd that happen?"

......

This was why I needed to go on survey missions. My humans were _extremely_ stupid when they weren't in life or death situations. I don't know what emotion was on my face but it couldn't be a good one as I promptly turned and face the wall for a full three seconds before I thought about turning back.

"Aw, come on, I was _joking_."

I couldn't see what Wren was doing. When I had turned, I released her hand. I didn't hear her move, either. I had to get out of there. No one was saying anything and Ratthi wasn't making it any better with his excuses. My performance reliability dropped all the way to 95% with no one speaking. Knowing that Wren was with a friend, at least with someone who wasn't going to hurt her, I headed for the suite to lock myself in my room. I _really_ needed to get away from humans for a while and just sink into my media. As I walked (I did _not_ run) to my quite, I could hear Wren's response.

"My dad jokes are twenty times funnier than _that_." She didn't sound amused. For some reason, I was comforted a bit by that.


End file.
